Walking a mile
by Apatija
Summary: Post DH, Hr/F. Spoilers. Hermione chooses to return to school. Fleur is forced to join her. The part-Veela circles the bookworm, intentions unclear, but an unexpected magical mishap forces them to switch perspectives, intimately know one another.
1. Chapter 1

A/N I would like to thank my beta for her efforts in cleaning up my muck.

Disclaimer: I own nothing except my laptop and wherever I'm taking this plot.

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It should have been simple. You drop out of school and spend the year saving the world. Ideally, what should follow is that the world is so grateful they ignore the fact that you never finished your education and allow you to enter the workforce without any further requirements. Then everything ends on a fantastic high note with no repercussions. This would be ideal. However, Hermione Granger found herself sitting on her bed, a year after the battle with the now vanquished Dark Lord, holding a letter from Hogwarts.

_HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY_

_Headmistress: Minerva McGonagall_

_(Order of Merlin, First Class)_

_Dear Ms. Granger,_

_We would like to inform you that Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry renovations are complete. Your position at Hogwarts is reserved. Should you decide to complete your final school year and graduate, you have until the 31__st__ of July to respond to this letter. After that date you will be required to complete supplementary courses in another school. You may choose to spend the whole year or take several specific courses in half a term. Please see your enclosed list of required texts. We hope you had an enjoyable and refreshing break. _

_Yours sincerely,_

_Horace E. F. Slughorn, Deputy Headmaster_

Indeed, reality was cruel. Why couldn't she live in a fantasy land where everyone is happy and a war ends on a clean break? With so many people dead or injured, the magical community was ecstatic it was over but confused about how to proceed. Hermione glanced over at the stacks of Daily Prophet newspapers she never got around to throwing away. A part of her was reluctant to toss out a paper that followed the events of a historical war, not because the paper would unquestionably grow in worth, but because Hermione's powerful love of history and knowledge made it painful to throw them away. She managed to save a whole year in newspapers. It was a very difficult year.

As the wizarding world recovered from the shock and joy of having finally killed the Dark Lord, celebrations and fame led to complicated questions. No one could say that any student at Hogwarts actually accomplished any learning (Hermione was aware they learned many illegal spells, however, it was clear the Ministry did not find that was learning that positively contributed to wizarding society in their final year). Suddenly the whole community began debating. Should students in their last year at school be pardoned for their lack of education and be given honorary graduation, or do they need to repeat the year properly? If it was the case that many seventh year students were traumatized by the events, shouldn't every year be pardoned as well? After all, from first to seventh year, all the students were impacted. Foreign countries also complained about favoritism. Their own children had families killed or property damaged, even if their schools had not been directly destroyed like Hogwarts.

There was more consensus on the famous trio: Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, and Ronald Weasley. The Ministry wanted to give them honorary graduate diplomas. But then where did that leave the students who fought at the front line? That stemmed into arguments about how weak the Ministry was, their policing force was clearly pathetic if they had to rely on students in a school and an underground resistance to do the majority of their battles. The political and economic backlash from the war was powerful and dangerous. Hermione felt badly for Kingsley Shacklebolt; the poor man would have to clean up the mess created by Cornelius Fudge and remained unfixed by Rufus Scrimgeour.

In the end they decided to give students options. Hogwarts School students received one year's break while the school was renovated. This was partly done because the school actually did need refurnishing. Hogwarts was a complex and magically laden school that needed time to recreate. However the ultimate reasoning behind the break was to allow students time off, not only in thanks for their efforts and courage, but to help their families recover and rebuild. Unfortunately for students under sixth year, they had to redo a whole year. For those above, they could take a half term to complete their year, since they were most involved in the battle itself, had learned the majority of their studies and sacrificed the most. Hermione was sure the professors would go easier on the younger students and personally hoped that the same would not go for her.

She absolutely adored the difficult lessons because they were really interesting to her. It was rare for her to come across information that was hard to understand, but she loved the challenge. More accurately, she loved obsessively and fanatically tearing into a challenge until it became cowed and finally submitted to her. She had planned to return to Hogwarts ever since she decided to drop out. Of course, she would take the whole year's course. She suspected Ron would be forced to complete his studies in half a term and Harry would join them. The thought of Ron made her cringe.

She lay back on her bed and stretched out, groaning to herself. Ron liked her, and Hermione had believed she liked him back. But it was just so hard to pinpoint why. The boy hardly paid her any attention, was obtuse, irritating, self centered, silly, frustrating, temperamental, shallow… His only saving grace was that every once in a while he could be extremely sweet and he was devoutly loyal to his friends (so long as they didn't make him too jealous). Hermione bit her lip and turned to her side, fighting off the burning in her eyes so she wouldn't cry.

It was loneliness. She had wanted Ron only because she was lonely. Her intellect had preceded her whole life. That was all anyone ever saw in her when she walked into a room. It became such a powerful part of her identity that she didn't know if there even was any other part of her. Her clothes were plain, her body was plain, everything was so damn plain. She walked into a room as a brain. Everyone wanted to utilize her. No one just wanted to be _with_ her. Just to chat. No one came to her without having a question or needing a favour.

Her fame stemmed from Harry Potter's fame. He was the boy who dealt the blow that killed the Dark Lord. Ron was famous because he was the best male friend of the Boy Who Lived (although Hermione would never tell him that the girls chasing him were really interested in spending a few minutes with Harry). Hermione on the other hand, was a Know-it-all. Or a Know-it-all-Bitch. It wasn't fair. She contributed the most, helped Harry through the worst. If she really gave in and allowed herself some credit, she had to admit that she did all the grunt work in everything they did. But _she_ was only important in the corporate world, no value for herself as a person. She already had many offers and begging from major wizarding businesses. She turned them down of course; she needed to finish her schooling if she were to feel truly qualified.

"_Are you insane? You have all these people trying to give you jobs! Really good jobs! And you're turning them down?" Ron looked at her in shock. _

"_It's just not right! I'm not qualified until I finish school! Look at these offers… St. Mungos? I have no training! The Ministry wants me? I don't know anything about this. I can't use this sensitive period to propel myself up to a status I don't deserve. What if I get these jobs? What on earth am I supposed to do then?" She looked at him in annoyance. _

"_Pfft. I'm taking that Ministry job they offered me. Should be great! And what do they care about our qualifications? We saved them! We saved everyone. They probably don't want you to actually _do_ anything anyway, just have you there to be _you_ and get them attention. It'll be easy and you'll make loads of money!" _

_Her face turned red. "Well, Ronald Weasley, I see how much you think of yourself. Perfectly comfortable just sitting around and doing nothing with your life!_ I_ want to actually keep going and help people! I want to _do_ things, not just be a figurehead."_

They got into an awful row over that. A part of her found relief when Ron ended it between them. They were never a good idea, and knowing how sensitive Ron was, if she had ended it the friendship would have surely died. As much as she did not want Ron as a boyfriend, she didn't want to lose his friendship. She was still furious with him though, for breaking up with her just to explore his newfound fame with the girls. It was ridiculous. Ron got sexual offers, Hermione received the most lucrative job offers, and Harry got the best of both worlds, he was offered a lot of opportunities for work and was deeply involved with Ginny.

Hermione could admit to herself that she was feeling unappreciated. People didn't like her; they liked what she was capable of doing for them. The problem was that Hermione _liked_ helping others. She took pride in her work and accomplishments so her intelligence was very much a part of her and she could never be disingenuine. To prep herself, dress up and take interest in things that many others liked but she found boring, simply wasn't possible. She tried to remind herself of who she really was. Hermione was a young woman, she wanted to joke and have fun like anyone else, she even wanted to participate in silly things.

Ever since she was little, even in muggle schools, no one liked her. She was too smart. But her greatest sin was that her intelligence was obvious, blatantly loud for the whole world to hear. "I know," "I understand," "you only need say it once, or you may never need say it at all because I will find out anyway." Hermione Granger was a prodigy in her own right. They had hated her for it. Naturally, she built barriers around herself. She would be the genius they all hated, she buried herself in knowledge of the world to avoid actively dealing with it, until eventually she could no longer pinpoint any other characteristic in herself.

By then she was crying softly to herself, curled up into a ball. She shot up abruptly from the bed, furious at her moment of weakness, her self pity. She took a deep breath and walked over to her desk across the room, holding the letter in her hand. Her desk, like her room, was well organized. There were many ink stains and scratches, but the books and papers were carefully arranged in compartments for easy retrieval. She hated to throw away books or notes; one never knows when they'll be needed. The room itself was clean, barely anything out of place, and plain. Always plain. Except for her walls. Her walls were completely and totally covered in vivid photographs of nature, people, and places.

She sat herself down at the desk, turning on the lamp as sunlight began to disappear over the horizon and quickly wrote out her reply. She had missed Hogwarts and never got to say goodbye properly. Now she could finally complete an important part of herself, and what she had strived to do all her young life: finish school as the top student.

_What will I strive for after? _

She quickly banished the thought and put her quill to the paper:

_I, Hermione Jane Granger, would like to enroll for a full year's term… _

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A/N: I havent given up on my other story, I've already written up three chapters, my beta just decided to edit this story first lol This story is going to be a weird mix of humour and drama, with romance of course. And... yes I do know there's a lil bit of a dirty pun on the summary lol

If you have the time, drop on by and give me a review! If you cant or wont, then I hope you enjoyed reading!


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Disclaimer as usual, I own nothing JK owns! Thank you to my beta!

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It was early morning, the wallpaper in the bedroom painted gold by the sunlight, illuminating the rare artwork hung on the walls. The room was gorgeous; no expenses spared, elegant antique furniture, a small connected tea room that had large glass doors leading to an expansive balcony overlooking the Mediterranean Sea. Comfortable leather armchairs, antique coffee table and a Persian rug in the tea room and a king sized bed in the bedroom centered on a silk carpet. Its headboard was against the wall, just under large windows. The table in the bedroom was large and mahogany. The linen was one hundred percent Egyptian cotton and the large pillows were stuffed with goose down feathers. Upon entering the bathroom one would take notice of the large and elaborate Jacuzzi, the body shower jet stall just a little ways away from the Jacuzzi. These were only two rooms in the Delacour mansion, which had over fifty rooms in total and remained hidden and isolated from the Muggle population. The house was situated just outside of the city of Montpellier. This was a home that money built.

Fleur Delacour, beautiful part-Veela, was lazily reading over one of the notes sent out to young witches and wizards all over the world. She lay nude in her large bed, ignoring her bedside companions, one of whom was snoring, as she read the Beauxbatons letter inviting her to return to school after her well deserved break. She sighed and disentangled herself from the two gorgeous men wrapped around her. Normally she wouldn't allow them to spend the night, but the blond one was quite vigorous and wore all three of them out. She reached over to her plush chair and grabbed her dark red satin robe. Shooting them one final glance, she walked to the tea room and made her way to the balcony.

The sun warmed her face, the air was fresh and smelled of the sea, a gentle breeze caressed her hair, yet she noticed none of this. To the untrained eye (and all eyes had a habit of being glazed in the presence of a Veela) Fleur was a goddess, almost perfect in her appearance. She had curves in the right places, taut porcelain skin, and a demeanor that usually commanded obedience and received it. But there were barely perceptible dark circles around her eyes now, her skin stretched slightly around her high cheek bones, and her hair had lost some of its lustre.

Fleur leaned up against the wooden railing, listening to the water beat against the sand as she pulled out a cigarette and lit it with her wand. Her mother would have lost her mind if she knew her eldest daughter had taken up such a disgusting habit. Of course, she wasn't quite on speaking terms with her mother since her seventh year and the Tournament. After that point she went from being the favourite to being a problem child. After Diggory's death her marks in class became abysmal. The Beauxbaton Academy had eight years of schooling as opposed to Hogwarts' seven. Her final year was so bad she dropped out. So naturally, her mother found her a job at Gringotts regardless of her lack of expertise.

To her mother's shock and dismay, something had changed within her daughter. The once proud, naïve, and sometimes snobbish girl turned into an isolated, risk-taking, and cynical mess. The part-Veela spent one year just partying and sleeping with people she deemed worthy of her attention. Her life became one of self indulgence and destruction. Yet all who thought they knew her had no idea why she suddenly didn't care about anything. At first her parents attempted to be understanding (although they understood nothing), by giving a woman who already had everything: even more. The Delacour mansion by the sea was gifted to her, so she could have private time to herself to recover from whatever they thought was wrong with her. Fleur smiled wryly at her family's attempts to comfort her.

For a while it seemed as if things improved. Her mother bribed Fleur's way into Gringotts. Fleur was never stupid; in fact, it only took her a handful of months before she became an expert in her field. She was respected and got the attention of a good man, Bill Weasley, who fell in love with her. To her friends and family's joy, the relationship seemed healthy and happy. But Fleur never loved Bill, just took him on because it appeased others to see them together. She cheated on him frequently. Fleur couldn't help a small sly smile, recalling the one time when Bill was sleeping upstairs and Pauline came over by Floo. While he slumbered upstairs, Fleur was fighting to keep from making a sound. Pauline was ever so good with her tongue… But for Fleur the relationship worked; the man never suspected a thing, she was still able to see other people, and she was certain beyond any doubts that if he had caught her, even with another man, she could easily keep him with her. People did not deny Fleur Delacour anything. Except for her mother.

With her mother back in her thoughts, she pulled out the letter from Beauxbatons. During the war, she participated in the fight against the Dark Lord. The wizarding world was victorious but shortly afterwards Fleur's life went downhill. She lost her job in Gringotts, having failed to come to work repeatedly. She stopped talking to Bill altogether, although he continued to send her flowers from time to time. Her mother gave her an ultimatum: return to school and make something of yourself, or you are on your own. The substantial bribe from her mother, aided by Fleur's old reputation at the school got her spot back in Beauxbatons. Fleur was twenty one years old and being forced to return to school.

She took one last drag of her cigarette and snuffed it out on the note. If she was returning to school she was going to pick one on her own. There was no doubt in her mind that the school to go to was Hogwarts. The school was now had the most famous and respected in reputation in the wizarding world; their students fought against Death Eaters and _won_. She would write to the Headmaster (or was it Headmistress now?) and use her sad little story to earn a spot at Hogwarts. Everyone believed she was traumatized by Diggory's death, and more so affected by the battle with the Dark Lord. They were all so full of themselves. Not a single person she spent time with truly knew her, not even her little sister.

Her fingers fumbled for another cigarette only to come up empty. Frowning, she went back into her tea room and spotted another packet. She lit herself another one and casually stretched herself out on one of the leather chairs. Every move she made was sensual and relaxed. Without her Veela heritage, she would still ensnare all who dared venture to her presence. She stared at the doorway to her bedroom with a blank expression. Everyone wanted her; she wanted to be anyone else. Happiness was elusive. Her only moments of joy were orgasms and they were far too short to sustain her. She had briefly dappled in drugs, but she didn't like the lack of control. People thought she was spiraling out of control, but in her mind everything was going according to plan; she would go nowhere and do nothing except what pleased her.

The problem was her mother. She took some control away from Fleur, demanding that the girl finish school or everything would be taken away. It didn't bother Fleur that she was so dependent on her family name. It was expected. Her mother took from her mother, who took from _her_ mother and so on. The Delacour women were talented and strong, but they didn't see the need to make a name for themselves when they already had a name that carried so much clout. It was tradition. Fleur understood that it was also impossible to run away from your name, just as it was impossible to run from your heritage. Unfortunately.

She finished her latest cigarette and wondered if she should summon one of the house elves to bring her a cappuccino. How long should she wait before she asks…whatever their names were, to leave? She checked the grandfather clock in the tea room and decided to give them a few more minutes rest. Besides, she wasn't sure that she didn't want another round with them before she made them leave.

Fleur summoned herself some parchment and her quill. Far from ordinary, the quill could generate its own ink and the parchment could check spelling in ten different languages. The best galleons could buy. She carefully wrote a letter to Hogwarts, explaining her situation and interest in returning to school there. She was confident that her mother would find out, through her various ways, that Fleur had written to Hogwarts and would, of course, help her get into the school. Her mother wouldn't be against it per say (she preferred that Fleur go to Beauxbaton), but clearly Hogwarts had become _the_ school to attend. Her history of exemplary grades would only help further her case.

She walked over to her owl. It actually disturbed her. Its creepy, bug-like face and eyes upset her, hence why it stayed in the tea room. It was a rare breed, the Oriental Bay owl. Her mother fell in love with its… unique face. Feeling mildly violated she allowed it to settle on her hand. It wasn't a bad tempered owl, it just looked odd. She even tried being affectionate with it in the past but it was very unresponsive. Gabrielle named it Laika, but Fleur could only refer to the owl as 'it.' She deftly tied the note to its leg and released it by the balcony. Like all things Delacour, it was elegant. Fleur grit her teeth and returned to her tea room.

Hogwarts would be interesting. She didn't particularly like it last time but she figured she would be more prepared for the changes this time. They had also renovated the area, hopefully improving its ridiculously drafty castle. Feeling a strange mix of numbness, anticipation, and anxiety, she turned to her bedroom and stripped from her robe. She eyed the men in her bed, deciding on the blond.

Fleur sat on the edge of the bed he was on, his back to her. She traced her fingers along his sculpted back, reaching around his hip and began stroking him slowly. Her thrall began to seep into the room, engulfing the man who had her attention. She watched his body tense and flush, muscles shifting as he began waking. His sex grew hard and a grin blossomed on his face. The goddess wanted him again.

Yet the goddess never smiled for him. No matter how hard he tried to please her, he knew he somehow fell flat. When it was over, they were made to leave her mansion. They were never asked to return again.

Fleur forgot about them shortly after.

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A/N: Thank you to all those who reviewed and those who added me to faves and whatnot! I know this is slow going, Im trying to set the stage after all... they'll come face to face soon and then it gets realllllly interesting if I say so myself lol Hope you enjoy, please review if you have the time!


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I own nothing JK owns.

Thank you to my beta, who carefully cleaned up the chapter in spite of her busy schedule :)

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Hermione stood alone at Platform 9¾ with her luggage. She felt rather abandoned. Harry, Ron, and Ginny were not returning to school. It appeared that Ms. Weasley was unable to convince them to finish their diplomas. She sighed to herself; it seemed as if she were one of the few people on this earth who actually had a work ethic. The others were quite comfortable to take what little knowledge they had and enter the work force. A part of her was irritated because although the three of them had a lot of experience, and many good traits (Harry was courageous, Ron was loyal), she was the only one with any concrete knowledge. What did they do? They stabbed things or did something brave after she helped them find the tools to successfully accomplish their goals. Technically, she was the only one of the group who could not only successfully "wing it" in the workforce, but even without any foreknowledge was liable to become proficient in a matter of days. But she had a _work ethic_ dammit. Harry decided on being an auror and Ron became, to Hermione's utmost horror, Goblin Liaison. She was certain it was Bill's influence. Who in their right mind would appoint hot-headed Ron to be liaison for anything?

Ginny joined a Quidditch team that Hermione couldn't recall the name of, and Neville, who wouldn't be returning to Hogwarts either, was now an Herbologist. She was feeling rather lonely, almost desperate enough to wish at least Luna would have joined her in school; a familiar face is a familiar face. However, the strange blonde had gone off to explore nonexistent species.

She stood there helplessly, looking for someone, anyone she could recognize. Even _Malfoy_ would have been a nice surprise. She dejectedly cast a spell to make her luggage small enough to fit her pocket. It would have been awkward walking through the Muggle portion of the station without any luggage, as inconvenient as it was to cart around her things.

Hermione strolled over to the train, at first oblivious to the whispers and stares.

"_Bloody hell! It's Hermione Granger!"_

"_What? Where? Are you joking? THE Hermione Granger?"_

"_Christopher look, look! It's Hermione Granger!" _

Hermione blinked in confusion, finally noticing the looks of awe. A child, no more than six, obviously there to see off an older sibling, reached out to her mother.

"Mum! Mum! It's the lady! It's the lady who beat You-Know-Who! Mum!"

But her mother was too busy gaping at Hermione to acknowledge the little girl.

Hermione turned a beet red, tripping over her own feet as she tried to speed up to the train. She didn't get there in time; one of the new students stopped her.

"Hermione Granger!"

Hermione flinched at her loud voice.

"Ms. Granger can I have your autograph?!" The girl quickly produced a quill and fumbled for her inkwell. She seemed to be grabbing some sort of paper. To Hermione's embarrassment it was the Daily Prophet, with a blown up photo of herself, Ron and Harry. Harry was looking dazed and tired, Ron was beaming and she was awkwardly smiling. It was taken just a few weeks after the defeat of the Dark Lord.

It seemed as if the girl's approach had finally given everyone the nerve to surround the famous bushy haired brunette. She was surrounded by people of all ages, some asking for, others demanding, her attention and autograph. They produced parchment, waved textbooks, some offered her skin (making her cheeks flush all the more deeply) and Hermione suddenly felt claustrophobic. Why the bloody hell did she not pay attention to what Harry did in these situations?

She stuttered and tried her best to sign a few of the items waved in her face, but she could barely make out all the questions people were tossing at her from every direction. Some people were crying, a lot of people were hugging her and almost all of them wanted to at least brush up against her, as if she were some mystical object meant to bring them luck. It was one thing to possess the intellectual knowledge that you were famous, and another to actually experience it full force. Everyone loved her and wanted to be near her but all she could do was confusedly address the few people in her closest vicinity.

"What's Harry Potter _really_ like?"

"I heard you're the smartest witch in the _world_! What-choo you back in school for, chris'sake!?"

"Do you have a boyfriend?"

"Would you mind signing this for my son? He would go mad if I got him your autograph. If I give you my address could you get Harry and Ron to sign something too?"

"Alllll'righ, that's enough the lot of you!" To her relief, a familiar large face broke through the crowd, quite efficiently considering his massive form. Rubeus Hagrid waddled over to Hermione, people reluctantly shuffling out of his way. She smiled warmly at the half-giant who had been a sweet and loyal friend throughout her youth at Hogwarts.

"Hagrid! I havent seen you in forever!" She threw her arms around him as best she could, grinning from ear to ear.

"Tha's right Hermione! One whole year and look at you!" People began to give them space, though they remained hovering around the brunette, almost as if waiting for her protector to leave so they could pounce on her again.

She looked up at him. The man had often frustrated her with his love of dangerous magical creatures and just as often had put her and her two friends in some form of jeopardy because of this. From dragon eggs to pure blooded giants, if Hagrid wanted to introduce you to his latest pet you'd best be running in the other direction. Regardless, he was a good friend, always willing to turn a blind eye to the trio's rule breaking and ready to fight on their behalf.

"You look great Hermione! A bit taller than before, and you look more tan!"

Hermione grinned, "The family went to the beach often this summer. It's been fantastic. If I knew how to swim I'm sure I wouldn't be this tan." she laughed.

"You cant swim? Well tha's a bit of a surprise." His warm eyes softened. "I heard Harry and Ron are off working now, they're grown up now ain't they?"

Hermione's smile became more forced, but she was unable to vent her frustrations to Hagrid, sweet as he was. "Yes, they're doing wonderfully. I just wanted to finish up my diploma, then I'm off to work myself."

"Oh I'm sure you'll do fantastic! You hear fer half a term?"

"No, I'll be here for the full year. I want to get my education completed properly." She added, with almost a haughty air.

"Tha's fantastic Hermione," he chuckled to himself. "Well I best be going, I'm just here to see the students off. It's our first year back and they want a little bit of security, just in case."

She nodded at him, "thank you, for, you know, saving me from everyone." she laughed a little nervously.

"Oh Hermy, you're gonna have to learn and get used to it. You're the most famous witch of our time!" He winked at her then turned away.

Hermione swallowed hard, what on earth was she supposed to do with her fame? The crowd, obviously aware when Hagrid left, quickly began flanking to her again. She jumped to action and quickly entered the train, just as the whistle went off to signal the doors would be closing.

*****

Fleur Delacour was already on the Hogwarts Express train for a full thirty minutes. It was boring and she hardly ever arrived this early for any occasion, however, she didn't want to get into trouble her very first day. If she caused any commotion her mother was going to finally snap and the part-Veela would find herself disinherited.

Her mother's response to the news that Fleur had been accepted to Hogwarts for a full term was anti-climactic.

_"Of course. You were accepted." Apolline gazed at her daughter with an unreadable expression. "Very well. You finish this year with acceptable grades and your inheritance is safe." _

No anger, no joy, nothing. Her mother supplied her with a bank account she could easily reach while at Hogwarts, bought all of her materials and clothes, then all interaction ceased. To her mild surprise, Fleur was unaffected. Long gone was the deep connection between mother and daughter as neither could recognize the other.

The blonde paused, hearing some commotion from outside the train. However the noise stopped shortly and the train began moving. She leaned back on her seat, closest to the window, with her legs elegantly crossed. One of the few times in her life she was dressed as a Muggle, as she had to go through Platform 9¾ like the others. Everyone stared at her in wanton desire as she passed the threshold. She sat in her tight fitting black jeans and high heeled leather boots. Her shirt was cream colored with a low neckline, tight enough to hug her curves like a second skin.

She stared out of the window as the train sped along. As she contemplated locking the door to her compartment before anyone could disturb her, someone let themselves in. Her blue eyes roamed over to the eighteen year old looking male standing before her, struggling to get his luggage inside. She scoffed at his stupidity; he could have just shrunk his raggedy bag and saved himself the bother.

He turned around and took in the sight before him; a gorgeous blonde relaxing in her seat and gazing at him with a bored expression. His mind went blissfully blank. All that mattered was this goddess, sitting just there, her delicious scent permeating the room. _Mmm Vanilla…_

Fleur felt a little empty as she watched him fall for her without effort on her part. It was only when the train jerked that he woke up long enough to put his luggage on its shelf but he moved slowly, his mind so preoccupied that he had to carefully maneuver himself. A dark part of Fleur, one that rarely revealed its presence, maliciously wished he would go so stupid at the sight of her that he would lose his balance and strike his head, finally completing his transition into a vegetable. But that part of her quickly flitted away. She needed a cigarette.

He sat down across from her and stared at her openly, his mouth slightly agape.

She looked at him, studying his lustful expression, and began considering what particular activity she would most enjoy doing at that moment. He began talking to her but she couldn't hear him, too busy deciding whether to fuck him or smoke…

"I apologize. I did not 'ear you. What did you say?"

His mind instantly turned to mush. Her soft, deep voice was enough to make him react. Mortified, he leaned over to mask the tightness in his pants. Oh how he wished he had already changed into his robes. He hoped she didn't notice.

But notice, she did. He wasn't unattractive. Fairly plain. Black hair, eyes a little too close together and his nose was longer than she would have normally liked. However, his lips looked soft and full… His jaw was square.

"Ahhh, I said my name, umm my name…" he frowned and struggled to remember just what his name was, "Oh! It's Ackley. Yea…" he laughed erratically, his nerves and lust getting to him.

Fleur wasn't interested in sex with him. The man (or boy?) didn't inspire notions of great romance or lust. But he could be useful. Perhaps if she cannot find others, or if she wants a quick one, he could be useful indeed. She took out her wand and quickly cast a set of complex, but now familiar, spells to lock the door. Alohomora would be insufficient.

He froze as he realized she had locked the door. She shifted to sit in the middle of the seat, casting a cleaning spell and uncrossed her legs. Another spell and her boots were undone. Fleur stretched out her arms on the head rests next to her and gave him a broad, almost feral smile. The room suddenly became hot.

"Get on your knees."

His eyes widened in shock.

"Uhh… what?"

Fleur Delacour raised an eyebrow, her sapphire eyes shining dangerously.

"I do not repeat myself, m'sieur."

He quickly fell to his hands and knees before her. Confused but terribly excited, he fumbled with the top button of his jeans. She sharply poked his shoulder with the tip of her hard leather boots.

"Non. I am first."

Without protest, he leaned forward, situating himself between her legs and salivating at the very _thought_ of what he was about to do. To his horror he couldn't get a proper grip on the button of her jeans, she sharply struck his agitated hands away, nails cutting into the back of his hand. Wincing, he watched as she deftly unbuttoned and unzipped her jeans.

"Now, you will do as I say, when I say it. You will not improvise."

His breaths were ragged, sex pulsing painfully, but he nodded vigorously. He would do _anything_ she said. He would not fail her. He tried to make eye contact again, those powerful, merciless, arctic eyes….

She painfully gripped his hair with her left hand and pulled him _down_…

*****

Hermione found herself alone in her compartment. As upset as she was to be alone on the platform, she soon realized that didn't mean she wanted the whole platform stalking her. She relaxed in her seat and took out one of her newest textbooks. Having read the majority of her course readings in the summer she realized she could now read the books at a more leisurely pace. It always soothed her to pick out a book and just immerse herself in it. In this world there were too few precious moments of sheer enjoyment. Doing something for personal pleasure was rare for Hermione. She was always so busy taking care of others or trying to get ahead, achieve her goals (though she was steadily losing her grip on what those goals were), and critique everything.

A few people barged into the compartment laughing loudly, completely ruining her moment of calm page turning, but she tried to ignore them. They all stopped abruptly to watch her.

"Wow…"

"Hermione Granger…."

She froze, having all too easily forgotten her newfound fame. Damn.

In an instant she was overrun by people asking her a multitude of questions about the final battle and of course the famed boys in her trio of friends. Some hopefully asked for Ginny's autograph, owing to her popularity in Quidditch; as if Hermione could snap her fingers and produce one at any time. Feeling remarkably tired she began inching away from the compartment, taking her leave the instant they were distracted (one of the boys luggage _somehow _fell from its precarious position on its rack and landed on the floor opening up in the process, knickers and clothes flying everywhere).

She walked as fast as her legs could take her, keeping her head down and making sure to avoid peoples' attention. This was going to drive her mad, all these people hunting her down and interrogating her. She had just managed to find a quieter part of the train when she was abruptly stopped by a large body.

"Are… are you Hermione Granger?" The voice was soft, almost vulnerable.

"Umm yes… I'm sorry, I really have to get into a compartment" she nervously stammered, "I don't want to end up with no seat…" Hermione looked up to see a shy young boy staring at her, tears welling up in his eyes, his cheeks reddening.

"Ah… yea, sorry, I don't mean ta hold ya up… I… I wanna… I wanna thank you. You know? Because… my da, durin' the war, the Death Eaters…." He stared at her intently for a moment before he blushed and quickly wiped away his tears. He smiled at her bashfully. "Jus'… just thank you… you know?"

Feeling her throat tighten, she smiled at him. "Oh… it's alright." This was all very new to her; she didn't know what to say to him.

Clearing his throat he looked away, tears reformed in his eyes, he quickly reached out and hugged Hermione tightly before he practically ran to his compartment.

The brunette watched him go with sadness. Perhaps she was being harsh, people just wanted to get to know her. But it was just so very hard for her. All she wanted at that moment was to find a compartment and get some peace and quiet to fully come to terms with the attention she was getting.

*****

Ackley was panting, his cheeks and jaw moist, the intoxicating taste of her still on his lips and her musky scent surrounding his head. The sound of her gasps, her husky instructions and the movement of her beautiful body turned him into an addict and he didn't even know her name. His pants were far too tight. He looked up, her cheeks were slightly flushed and her breathing was slowing down. She wasn't looking at him.

Her jeans were next to her on the seat and her boots were on the floor next to him. He licked his lips and went to grip her toned thighs, actually whimpering at the feel of her skin on his fingers. _So sinfully soft…_

She opened one eye lazily; its blue hue almost glowed. Fleur swatted his hands away. The blonde stood up and grabbed her discarded panties, placing them in one of the small pockets of her luggage, summoning a new pair.

Ackley watched as the goddess, still clad in her shirt, put on a new pair of lacy knickers then started redressing. A small protest escaped from him as she finished putting on her boots with another spell. She cocked her head to the side as she stood before him, still on his knees.

"Errr… I did you…. Now you do me ya?"

She let out a rich, deep, almost mocking laugh. "Oh no, m'sieur, I 'ave no intention of returning the favour."

He gaped at her in shock. "What?! But I just… I just…"

She smiled condescendingly, such a cute boy, he did try very hard to please her. It wasn't the best she'd had but it was sufficient. Those lips were very beautiful. But he had to be exceptionally good (and she had to be feeling particularly generous), in order to earn a moment with her mouth on his sex. He failed on both counts. Fleur watched his hurt and anger but she had long ago become desensitized to the pain of others. They all wanted every part of her and she inevitably disappointed them in some manner. She felt some faint pity for him however, because of his youth. Fleur smiled and sat back down on her seat as he watched her with mixed emotion, lust still prevalent. The Veela knew that with a gaze she could have him back to worship, make him forget all his reasons for being upset with her. Another part of her was a little frustrated with that fact.

"I know, a compromise, oui?" Her brilliant smile threw him into another stupor of desire. His sex actually became harder... would she?

Fleur laughed again, noting his puppy like excitement, "Non, non, a compromise. You will not 'ave me as you like." She canted her head and regarded him. In a soft, svelte voice, she instructed him, "unzip your pants…."

He gawked at her but his hand was already obeying, still on his knees before her. Her eyes darkened, almost foreboding.

"Take yourself out…" His brain couldn't function on a basic level anymore, his hands actually couldn't figure out what to do.

With a noise of exasperation she reached down and pulled him out. He gasped sharply, eyes rolling into the back of his head as her long slender fingers touched _him_. A weird noise slipped from the back of his throat and he felt a little dizzy. She sat back but he was so immersed in euphoria that he was unaware of her look of distaste; she rubbed her fingers together as if they were filthy.

"Now, turn toward the window, take yourself, and stroke."

He complied and in a matter of seconds came hard all over his pants and part of the wall. Never had an orgasm felt so good and it was all just because _she_ was in the room with him. The goddess had only touched him once and it was _fantastic._

He curled up on his knees and took a while to recover. Fleur grew impatient but waited for him to gather his senses and look at her.

"That was…. That was amazing!" his voice came in an awed whisper.

"Indeed."

On weak, wobbly legs, he stood up over her, eyes begging.

"We… we can spend time together…"

"Non," came her curt reply. Why was he still here? All she wanted at that moment was a cigarette and some peace. This little boy was now irritating her with his presence.

"What do you mean no…. we just… we…"

"What? What did _we_ do?" Her eyes shone like a silver blizzard. Absolutely stupefied, he watched her pull out a packet of cigarettes from the luggage above her, without even looking at the pocket she reached into. Taking out her wand she lit herself a fag, then swiftly recanted all her locking spells. "Clean yourself up. You may leave now."

Scrambling to his feet, red in the face but still hopelessly enamored with her, he used his wand to cast a cleaning spell on his pants and grabbed his luggage. Mortified, he threw her one last glance, filled with longing, before he struggled out the door.

Fleur replaced her spells, thankful to finally have a minute to herself. His technique could use improvement, but he had potential. Everyone tried to use Fleur for her body, why should she extend others any courtesy? If she really wanted a quick fix, she could easily find him again. _Perhaps monitor his progress_, she thought, with a lazy, empty grin.

Opening the window slightly, to let out the smoke, she settled into her seat and pondered her future in Hogwarts.

*****

Hermione wandered between cars, trying to look inconspicuous. It didn't take her long to realize that knocking on doors and poking her head in as fast as she could did not help her find solitude. Several times she wasn't fast enough and got held up by admirers. Twice she smacked her head in the frame as she tried to hastily get away. Now she began casting spells to listen in and decipher how big the crowd was. She figured that she could handle about three people. To her chagrin most of the compartments were talking about her, some even looking _for_ her.

Groaning, Hermione checked one of the few compartments at the front of the train left.

"_Amplifato"_

She listened carefully and heard nothing. To her annoyance, the door refused to open. It was locked! That was against the rules; everyone was allowed to enter a compartment.

"_Alohomora."_

Nothing. Hermione raised an eyebrow, almost insulted. This spell may put off a younger or average student her age, but Hermione was not easily dissuaded. She muttered a series of counter spells and in less than a minute opened the compartment door.

The brunette stepped forward, blinking at the smell of cigarette smoke and vanilla. Startled indigo eyes met mildly irritated amber.

"_Fleur?"_

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A/N: Oh noes, I stopped just when it got fun! lol Well, reviews dropped for the second chapter, perhaps Im punishing you? Naw I'm just generally evil mwahahah lol On the upside several people added this story to their alert list, so I remain encouraged! :D

Sorry it took so long, beta needed to attend to other things. If you want to know the progress of my work (Im a bit ambitious, keeping up two simultaneous stories) check out my profile, I update it fairly frequently. I say whether Im about to start a chapter, if I've started it and if my beta has it (thats what I mean by Beta Pending) that way you know who's taking the longest amount of time, me or my beta.

Hope you liked the chapter, please pop in for a review if you can, I cant have them switch bodies just yet, that comes a lil later. This story isnt going to be particularly short lol Thanks for reading!


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I own nothing that JK owns, I do however own Elicia Torres.... or perhaps she owns me? Hmmmm hehehe

Thank you to my beta, for her hard work and efficiency! -mwah-

_

* * *

"Fleur?"_

Hermione was startled to see the French part-Veela sitting in a Hogwarts Express compartment, one arm dangling out the window.

"Very good, you remember my name. Now please, shut ze door and lock eet."

Hermione's hackles rose. Somehow even saying _please_ came off as a thinly veiled insult. The blonde woman always irritated her. She had never held any false beliefs that Fleur had changed, especially when she started seeing Bill. The red haired males were ever so infatuated with her; the Veela had even managed to ensnare the female Weasleys into respecting her.

It had frustrated her to no end, and then she had to hear Ron complain about how she hurt Bill, completely abandoning him without a word, but he _still_ spoke of her with lust. The last she had seen of Bill he was looking ragged, and had even put on weight while he moped around the house. He lost his job after frequently getting caught drunk. Apparently, he was also sleeping with random blonde women and isolating himself from others. Now the blonde succubus was ordering Hermione Granger around.

"For your information, and I do feel it is my duty to inform you so your _ignorance_ of Hogwarts rules is rectified, it is against the rules to lock the compartment doors. Everyone has equal right to entry." She finished, realizing that Fleur was calmly ignoring her and facing the window, refusing to reach for the bait.

Before she could continue, Hermione overheard several voices approaching. The Veela took that moment to glance at her companion, smiling amusedly at Hermione's stricken look.

"_They say she's on the train!"_

"_Really? Hermione Granger!" _

With a little squeak Hermione promptly slammed the compartment door shut and cast several, more powerful and efficient spells on the door. When she turned around Fleur was frowning slightly.

"Zat was not necessary. My own spells would 'ave been effective."

"They weren't effective on me." Hermione argued, half insulting.

"Indeed, but only a small population of the world suffers from Obsessive Compulsive Disorder and utilizes it in their education quite like you do 'Ermione."

"Very good, you remember my name." Hermione finished lamely, turning red in the face. Then added: "Of course, you have yet to master the English tongue well enough to pronounce it correctly." She got to her seat, directly across from the Veela, unaware that Ackley had been sitting there just previously. Fleur's smile was almost predatory.

"Zere are many oz'er ways to master ze English tongue Mademoiselle."

Hermione's expression hardened. "Without a doubt, in that regard you are quite the master I'm sure. A great feat to add to your dwindling list of accomplishments" She added snidely, having heard rumours from Ron.

Hermione froze when the Veela stood up, blue eyes blazing. She gripped her wand in her pocket, quickly regretting the verbal sparring match as the woman stood far too close to her sitting form. Fleur's flat stomach was level with her face, her scent overwhelming Hermione's senses so much that she had trouble focusing on what was going on. _Veela thrall,_ Hermione quickly snapped out of it, her sharp mind piercing through the lulling energy Fleur was feeding her. She gazed up at the blonde with an annoyed expression while the Veela looked back at her in contemplation.

"I would like to clear somezing up wiz you 'Ermione, not because I owe you anyzing but because you appear to be a smart girl. You don't 'ave to like me, far from it, 'ate me if you wish, I probably deserve it. But I expect an intelligent woman to know better than to take rumours at face value, and it pains me to 'ear stupidity from those I believed to be intelligent. So do me a favour, _mon amie_, don't presume to know anyzing about me zan what leetle you know about me first hand."

Hermione looked away from the blonde, feeling embarrassed and cowed. Fleur returned to her seat and took a drag of her cigarette.

"Hey!" Hermione cried out, "What are you doing? You can't smoke in here!"

The smoke sensually curled around Fleur's form. The Frenchwoman scoffed, "Oh please, 'Ermione Granger, obeying ze rules? You must be joking."

"I may have broken rules in the past but at least I wasn't slowly poisoning innocent bystanders!"

Fleur seemed amused by this outburst. "I am almost finished," she purred, "'ave some mercy on an ignorant new student, non? It 'elps calm my nerves."

The quality of her voice was sleek but warm, coaxing Hermione into feeling placated. Her stomach felt pleasantly queasy and she felt a strange ache between her legs. _Damn her and her Veela heritage!_ She quickly snapped herself out of it and gave Fleur a stern look.

"This one time and this one time only. And keep it out the window, as… as… _cool_ as you might feel smoking makes you look, it absolutely sickens me." She got out her pocketed luggage and enlarged it so she could grab one of her textbooks: _Expert level Potions_. She pointedly ignored the part-Veela.

*****

This was a very new experience for Fleur. In a short span of time she felt a multitude of emotions, even had difficulty controlling her features in front of the brunette. All she had wanted was comfortable solitude, when the brunette barged into her compartment, effortlessly undoing all her spells. The English were so disruptive…

She knew of Hermione Granger; the name was now as famous as Harry Potter, even Merlin. Her reputation was powerful: highly intelligent, determined and upstanding, a nearly perfect woman. However, Fleur knew her more personally. Granted, she didn't know Hermione very well, but she had learned a few things from Bill and observed a few things for herself in the few interactions they had in the past. Of course her friends only had the best of things to say about her. Hermione was loyal, helpful, kind, and intelligent. Every one of her friends seemed to love her deeply, like she was a part of their family. It almost made her sick to her stomach.

Fleur, growing more manipulative and sociopathic as time wore on, picked up on more subtle signals from the brunette. In the short time they spent in each others' presence, the blonde deducted that Hermione was much more shy and sensitive than she let others believe she could be. Fleur also suspected that the girl had morals that were much more flexible than she let on. Based on her appearance and general attempts to avoid addressing her appearance (the brunette grew irritable quite easily when someone tried to preen her) Fleur also believed that one of the most sensitive topics for Hermione had to be the way she looked. A part of the blonde was troubled that her interest was fixated on the brunette's soft spots, where it was possible to hurt her most, but that part of her was slowly dissipating. The world functioned on who was the hunter, who was the prey, and who was collateral damage.

Fleur openly watched the brunette studiously pretending that she didn't exist. It was unnerving how this girl could actually break through her thrall. She wasn't using its full effects but then she never _had_ to until this moment. It was infuriating for her, yet exciting. A prey worth pursuing… But did she really want to pursue Hermione? The girl had actually hurt her with her comment on Fleur's faltering life. Yet at the same time Hermione seemed genuinely ashamed after the blonde had chastised her, not something that Fleur did regularly. Though it was rare, when her feelings genuinely _were_ hurt, she wasted no time, unleashing emotional and mental pain like a natural disaster until all that was left of a person was a hollow shell aching for Fleur's attention. She remembered one of her grandmother's last comments to her, before she died a year ago.

_"Thank the gods you are not a pure blooded Veela."_

Hermione was actually attractive in her own way. Her features were soft and her eyes like liquid chocolate. Lips were smaller than she liked and the hair was almost a rat's nest. She wasn't classically beautiful or ethereal like Fleur but she was definitely pleasant to look at, especially when those intense eyes took hold of her. Though Fleur would never admit it, she almost felt naked in front of those eyes, truly naked, where her own weaknesses were exposed. It didn't matter to her if the girl actually saw her body nude, though Fleur had a feeling Hermione would have had a fit if she did.

There was great potential in Hermione Granger. _Monumental potential. _She was the Word in the magical world. Every person with true power knew that while Harry Potter was the Golden Boy and Ron was a glorified side kick, the real influence lay with Hermione. The girl was profoundly resourceful, quick-witted and sharp. If Fleur could get a hold of Hermione and mold her properly (_own her?)_, then she would have real authority and control over their environment. Fleur would use Hermione's reputation to rise above the ranks, almost as high as Hermione herself. Everyone currently wanted Granger. Fleur could use her to develop her own independent niche in high society. _And then drop her like she was nothing?_

That was the problem. Without her permission, a spark of conscience deterred her. She didn't know why or where it came from, but it bothered her to use Hermione that way. Was it because Hermione was a woman? Because she was young? No. It was probably because Hermione was an intrepid woman who had spent her final few years of childhood fighting to save a world of damned people. It didn't seem right that she wanted to use and abuse this girl, who had managed to survive the Dark Lord, only to have her heart obliterated by a heartless blonde bitch whose soul was steadily deteriorating.

She had a cynical smile on her face, until she noticed that Hermione was looking at her with a strange expression. Fleur's smile instantly turned charming. To her amusement Hermione only regarded her with suspicion; such a strong woman, it would be so delicious to test her boundaries… how to seduce her, to make her fall in love, to tear her to pieces until she was bare and then see if there was a way to make her fall in love all over again… but she couldn't do that… could she?

Hermione turned back to her book. Fleur finished off her cigarette, releasing the plume of smoke out the window with the remains of her fag. She got up with her back to Hermione and retrieved her school robes. She had them custom designed, the inner layer was cashmere with a powerful temperature moderation charm that would last her the year. The outer layer was the typical polyester fabric other students were wearing. Fleur figured she already stood out in a crowd; there was no need to overdo it with visibly extravagant clothing. The soft cashmere felt so good on her skin, the magic already turning up the heat to a comfortable degree. She wouldn't ever need to wear bulky underclothes. Fleur smirked a little when she realized she could walk around the school wearing nothing but her lingerie under her robes, perhaps when she was feeling puckish. The robes hugged her figure well, well enough that Fleur felt Hermione's eyes on her.

"Is somezing troubling you 'Ermione?" She could practically _feel_ the brunette tense.

"No… I was just thinking I should put on my robes too."

Fleur said nothing. She sat back down and openly watched the slightly nervous girl get up and fumble with her resized luggage. Few people could withstand the Veela's presence without becoming awkward. Hermione put on her robes and turned to Fleur sharply.

"Why are you staring at me?" she asked, slightly haggard, fully clad in her shapeless robes.

"No particular reason, an old habit of mine." Fleur turned away, staring out at the passing scenery. She listened to Hermione sit down and begin flipping pages in her book. It was going to be a difficult task, seducing Hermione Granger; the girl appeared to have an instinctive dislike of Fleur. However, the brunette didn't give her the impression of jealousy. Usually women hated her because their envy consumed them, although Fleur always managed to win them over, use them, and discard them at a moments notice. No, Hermione had an accurate intuition that warned her of the blonde's intentions. It was disconcerting but also refreshing.

Fleur smiled to herself. There was enough time to carefully consider her options. To ensnare the brunette or release her…

A voice echoed through the train informing everyone that they would be at Hogwarts in five minutes, and that they were not to carry their luggage. The two women ignored the instructions and shrunk their bags, putting them in their pockets. Before Fleur could say a word the brunette took her spells off the door and briskly strode out of the compartment. Annoyed at the missed opportunity but intrigued nonetheless, Fleur followed, noting how quickly Hermione ran out the door she wasn't even in the car anymore.

The train came to a full stop and Fleur exited to the dark platform. Several eyes locked onto her form and stared intensely at the beautiful Veela. A slight nausea settled in her stomach, recalling the first time she had ever been able to command a room like that.

_She matured earlier than other girls, at age eleven she was already developing breasts, started menstruating, and her voice was deepening. Her mother told her it was a result of Veela blood; if anything she was entering puberty later than a typical Veela. Sex was discussed at an earlier age; she was only six when she learned about it because her mother needed to warn her, teach her how to protect herself. All Veela mothers taught their children how to defend themselves against rape or sexual harassment. _

_There was no way to completely extinguish the thrall; it was a natural occurrence, emanating from the Veela much like breathing. One could increase or limit the rate and depth of breath but must always breathe. Few people understood this, but the best way for a Veela to avoid sexual assault was to raise her thrall to its peak. Why pour lust into the heart of the one who wishes you harm? Lust is blinding, its makes people stupid, less coordinated and _obedient. _Fleur had learned this well. She also knew she wasn't ready for sex at the age of eleven. _

_Her mother had dropped her off at a friend's mansion for a birthday party. Despite her mother's teachings she wasn't prepared for her thrall to mature. She had seen a boy she liked and in an instant her thrall awoke, hitting its peak. Her sexual energy permeated the room, seeping into the hearts of eleven year olds like herself… and their parents… and the servants…. and she blinked confusedly at all the staring… the _leering_… She had felt so violated and filthy… she ran from the building and demanded that someone take her home. _

_The eyes… always staring… always wanting… _

But she had finally gotten used to it. Finally. Following the older students, she walked over to the carriages, surprised to see that they were pulled by Thestrals. She had learned about them in school, back when she cared to learn. After the war many people would be able to see the creatures, much like Fleur.

"My goodness, if it isn't Fleur Delacour, in _pale_ flesh. Now what would you be doing here, _my little flower._"

A strikingly beautiful woman stood before Fleur. All eyes left Fleur in an instant and engorged themselves on her beauty. Her skin was like caramel, so tanned and smooth, and her eyes the color of slate. Everything about her was perfectly sculpted, a lean, toned body that was taller than the blonde's but it was her hair that took peoples' breath away. It was not black hair, that would do it no justice. It was onyx, thick and full it flowed to the middle of her back. The locks shimmered and almost seemed like a solid mass, but a slight gust of wind quickly dashed any such notion, the fine hairs fluttered elegantly almost as if tickling and taunting the air with their soft caress.

Fleur clenched her teeth but managed to fake a pleasant smile.

"Elicia, it 'as been too long _cherie_, I have not seen you since Guillaume's party four mon'zs ago… don't tell me you 'ave lost 'is favour?"

Elicia Torres smiled at the blonde but there was cruelty in her upturned lips. The two women had been toying with each other for the past three years, though neither openly discussed it. Fleur was trying to rise in the echelons of upper class wizards; Elicia was already in the top levels of the hierarchy. Torres was a pure blooded Veela, already running three successful businesses and able to live without her parent's sizable trust fund. Her family's history was longer than the Delacour's, with strong ties to several famous wizards. The women were highly competitive with one another, each trying to steal allies or lovers from the other. But Elicia was a good sport; she kept an extremely tight leash on her thrall when Fleur was around. It made things far more entertaining and satisfying when she won. Naturally, Fleur couldn't resist limiting her thrall as much as she could, so as to add further insult to Elicia's losses. It was an extremely difficult game for Fleur to play. Standing on that platform everyone momentarily forgot Fleur's presence and Elicia was smothering her thrall as powerfully as she could. What Elicia lacked, however, was Fleur's ability to tap into her humanity; it made her far more relatable and less intimidating… though she was beginning to lose that edge.

"Ah, yes, Guillaume… lovely boy. I must say, I enjoyed his presence but I have taken a greater interest in Adelulf…"

Fleur tried to keep from grinding her teeth. Adelulf was far richer and had influence throughout most of Eastern Europe, while Guillaume only had a powerful grip on France. The blonde had managed to seduce Guillaume away from Elicia, but the Spanish woman had clearly gained an upper hand in the long term.

"But please, we are avoiding my question, _little flower_, why are you here?"

She couldn't very well expose her pitiful situation; a child chastised and ordered to go back to school. It would have been humiliating.

"I 'ave taken a fancy, I wish to finish my education… I also zink zis would be an excellent school to finish my diploma…. What is it zat brings you 'ere Elicia?"

Elicia cocked her head to the side and looked at Fleur with a bemused expression.

"I'm sorry? I don't quite understand that last bit, what was the question?"

Fleur almost sneered. The pure blood was mocking her accent, she always did. Elicia knew four languages and spoke them flawlessly.

"I asked why you are here Elicia." Carefully keeping track of her pronunciation, "but I suppose you would benefit from more education, oui?"

"Oh my _little flower_," she laughed softly, her voice bringing gooseflesh even to Fleur's body, "Ever so cute. I am here to take Potions lessons. I plan to open a cosmetics business, see what potions can aid these hopeless humans in their efforts to fight the effects of time and genetics."

Fleur was about to comment but Elicia's eyes seemed to catch something in the distance. Her pupils dilated and a look of surprise crossed her face.

"Hermione Granger…." She whispered, almost in reverence.

Fleur turned sharply, catching sight of the famous brunette fumbling through a large group of admirers as she tried to make her way to the carriages. This was not a woman used to attention. This was _definitely_ not a woman used to the attentions of two predatory Veela.

Fleur and Elicia locked eyes. The Spanish woman smiled innocently, leaned in and brushed her lips to Fleur's, gently nipping at her bottom lip before withdrawing. The blonde couldn't help but admire those velvety lips, so soft and warm.

Elicia stood back and regarded Fleur for a moment, then she smiled.

"Well, I simply must get going, wouldn't like to end up being one of the last to arrive. We're apparently going to be 'sorted' into houses or some nonsense." She rolled her beautiful eyes and turned toward the carriages, effectively dismissing the blonde. Fleur was glad that Hermione's carriage had already left because the sight of that Veela gracefully stalking toward a group of people put Fleur ill at ease. Elicia wanted Hermione. Hermione wouldn't be prepared to handle someone like Torres; she was strong, cunning, and vehement when she needed to be. She also had an abundance of economic, financial and social power to wield. The woman also had fewer scruples than Fleur, and that was no small feat.

It was decided, as Fleur made her way to one of her own carriages, that if anyone was going to seduce Hermione and reap the benefits of such a union, it would be _the little flower_.

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Great amount of reviews last chapter! I am pleasently surprised and eager to write more. Honestly, the drop in reviews for the second chapter had me thinking that perhaps this story deserved scrapping lol What a bad move that would have been!

Oh and I pulled a JK Rowling! Picking a name with meaning lol Elicia = spanish for nobility. Torres = spanish for living in or near a tower. Cheesy I know, but oh well! lol Hope you enjoyed the chapter, drop a review if you can. Thanks to the people who added this as their fave or on alert!


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: the usual. I own Elicia Torres though mwahahah

To my hard working beta: Thank you, thank you, thank you, Thank you! lol

I changed the story summary but the plot remains the same, they will switch bodies in the future.

**Warning:** Sexual content. Rated "M"

* * *

When Hermione finally entered the Great Hall later she was starving and exhausted from the multitude of questions and favours that her admirers asked of her on the carriage ride over to Hogwarts. Her appetite could have matched Ron's. _Or Bill's_, she thought to herself sadly. But the last thing she needed then was to think of Bill and end up remembering Fleur's appearance. The very thought of that woman made her insides squirm. She was ashamed to admit that she had almost literally run away from the blonde after the train arrived, but being in the same room with that woman became unbearable. She could still feel those silver-blue eyes patiently watching her throughout the whole damn trip. That gaze reminded her of the cobras at the zoo from when she was a little girl... such relentless focus, a sole intent, seeking weaknesses in its prey... She forced herself not to shudder and brought her eyes up to the ceiling.

There were many changes to Hogwarts, almost too many in Hermione's opinion. She almost felt violated, her childhood memories were betrayed and the place she once called home looked unfamiliar. The castle was larger, its stones were new and she could almost feel the recent magic in the air. She looked up at the ceiling that was once enchanted to mimic the outside environment, only to see they had literally replaced it with a glass dome so you could directly look up at the heavens. Somehow that only took away from the beauty of the room, although she did appreciate the massive windows all along the walls. They allowed the natural light to seep into the room, less claustrophobic than the old Great Hall and removing some of the gothic influence out of the décor. The room had changed in other ways. It was no longer a cloistered square room. The Great Hall was now curved around at the front and situated so the windows overlooked a garden. The professors now had a balcony to enjoy their meals in, no longer sitting level with the students. Traditional House tables were also gone. Each house now had several spacious round tables in place of the rows that used to dominate the room. The tables were arranged in concentric circles.

The tables had elegant fine engravings of their house symbols in their color. Hermione spotted one of her own house tables, red and gold, an elaborate lion's head at the center. She blinked confusedly when she noticed that the lion was moving, roaring at the sky. She put out a hand but realized that there was a protective spell over the table so the moving shape wouldn't be able to knock over any plates. Judging by the colours, the Ravenclaw tables were arranged to be the innermost circle, followed by Gryffindor, then Hufflepuff and Slytherin closest to the windows. Along the table's edge was the Hogwarts motto, repeated over and over: _Draco Dormiens Nunquam Titillandus_. She gasped when she realized the yellow lion's head might actually be a few karats of gold. Some of the red in the table shimmered strangely and she had to wonder if parts of it were real rubies…

"Merlin's beard! Is this _jade_?" She looked over to spot an incredulous Slytherin boy running his fingers over his silver and green table. Hermione swallowed convulsively when she realized her mouth had gone dry from being open for so long.

At the center of the room, surrounded by the house tables, was a massive stone fountain. Frowning, Hermione walked up to what appeared to be the statue of a faceless child. Everything about it was intricate except for its face. It wore plain robes and sat cross-legged on a rock covered in vines, leaves and flowers. At the child's back was a beautiful stone willow tree that actually swayed in a wind that was not there. Just above the tree rainfall was conjured out of thin air, gently falling on the figures and creating a soft bubbling sound. The entire image sat in the fountain's vine covered wide basin.

She looked at the plaque at the base of the urn:

_This statue commemorates the lives and friendships that have been broken or lost during the First and Second Wizarding War. This is also a monument to the youth who gave up their innocence, took on the mantle of bravery and fought on the side of Light, even when the day was at its darkest. _

_Sileo iam, tectum ex tempestas 1970-1998 _

Hermione had rarely felt so conflicted. She watched as other students, now too distracted to notice her, also reacted to the new designs. The newer students were in complete awe but the students who had already spent time there had mixed feelings. She watched one girl start crying but she wasn't sure if it was joy or sadness.

Feeling numb she pulled out one of the comfortable chairs and sat at a Gryffindor table. More people began settling down and it wasn't long before someone spotted her. Sure enough, in a brief moment she found herself surrounded by star struck people talking a mile a minute. But it didn't take them very long to realize Hermione wasn't in the mood. Finally boring them, or perhaps offending them, they began to focus on other things, in particular, McGonagall.

Everyone gasped as a small section of the middle balcony rail opened up. Stairs materialized downward slowly, stopping after only four steps before it flattened out and became a podium. She watched as her former professor took those steps and addressed the school. McGonagall didn't appear to use a sonorous charm; Hermione suspected the podium area was enchanted to enhance the speaker's voice.

"Welcome to Hogwarts! We have... as you see, made some... _improvements_ to the school's structure." Hermione thought she saw the new Headmistress make a face at that statement. "This is a new beginning for Hogwarts, for all schools. This building has been revitalized and the class structure altered to allow students greater options." Hermione knew she was referring to the older students completing half terms.

McGonagall paused in her speech for a moment, a faraway look in her eyes.

"This school year is about evolution and... and change. One year has passed, one year since the wizarding world finished its second, and hopefully, final war. We have all lost much, one way or another, we have had to pick ourselves up and keep moving forward, pushing to get on with our lives."

There was some soft sniffling in the Hall, a few students actually had to get up and leave. Hermione noted that even the Slytherins were staring at their shoes, blinking rapidly. McGonagall opened her mouth as if to say something but then shook her head as if changing her mind.

"There are no inspiring words, no long speeches that could ever encompass what happened. I will not stand here, glorifying the war, and there are no clever sayings or phrases I can bestow upon you, the future of the wizarding world, to comfort or validate you on the decisions that were made… the people we lost. War is sloppy, it's chaotic and unpredictable. Good ideas turn out to be bad ones, people make mistakes and loyalties become _flexible_." Her eyes hardened, "No matter what the outcome there is always bitterness for _us,_ the people who have firsthand experience. It will be decades before people will truly rejoice in our victory over the Dark Lord, to have happiness untainted by pain. This war will become… an epic tale told to the young, immeasurable losses turned into a heroic myth.

McGonagall took a moment to cast a sweeping gaze over the Great Hall; haunted young eyes looked back at her if they could.

"There are no excuses. _We failed you._ Us, the adults, we have failed you. We were supposed to keep you safe and teach you independence but we were so overwhelmed by our own fears and confusion that we left you to fend for yourselves when you weren't ready, when you had to fight enemies far more powerful and more sadistic than you knew existed. We were fools.

"But before the time comes, before the world can only remember this war through texts and stories, we must grow and learn from our recent history. This school will provide you with the skills and knowledge to enter the wizarding world as prepared adults! I cannot promise you healing, I cannot pretend that everyone will leave this place whole but we will do our best to create a home for you here-" Her voice cracked briefly and she had to close her eyes to compose herself before speaking. "You are the shape of things to come, most of you are hurt, but none of you are _broken!_ I have absolute faith in the hands of our youth, to mold the future. You are all _strong_ people! No one in the wizarding community has done more for the war than you! No one has lost more! Friends, parents, siblings, lovers… No one has _given _more! Your bodies, minds, and your _souls_."

Hermione's throat felt blocked by something and her hands were gripping her robes until her knuckles were white. Many children had died defending Hogwarts or had died in their homes seeking shelter. The Dark Lord had been merciless. Killing the families of those students who stayed in Hogwarts, and hunting down those who left to go home.

"I could not feel more proud or honored to have you all here. Welcome to Hogwarts! Now, let the sorting, begin!"

Hermione got up from her seat and left the Great Hall, ignoring the whispers trailing after her. The whole damn day had just been too much; lonely on the platform, abruptly struck by her fame, a confrontation with Fleur, the changes in Hogwarts, McGonagall's speech, memories of Harry and Ron, the war… the funerals. She would eat in the kitchens, by herself, peacefully. She planned to then run to the common room and perhaps write Harry a letter before bed… the Invisibility cloak suddenly had enormous appeal.

*****

Fleur was irritable. They had been waiting twenty minutes in some sort of lobby for the deputy Headmaster, someone who called himself 'Slughorn.' What an absolutely repulsive name. She had always felt the English language was rather coarse and clumsy compared to her native French, but a name like that was beyond her imaginings. The room they were in was large and dark but homey. A massive fireplace was lit, casting shadows over the furniture. Fleur looked across the room to Elicia, who was casually sitting on one of the other couches ignoring some man who was trying to charm her. Their eyes met and Elicia winked. Fleur smiled in return, not one to scare easily.

The people were already talking about the two of them. The most beautiful women in Hogwarts. Some weren't sure but they thought they caught them kissing on the platform. Of course, they thought this was foreign custom. But Fleur knew what it really was: a challenge.

She shifted in her seat, also ignoring the two people who had followed her to her carriage and managed to stick to her all the way to Hogwarts. Fleur had no idea whatsoever who they were or what they wanted, but they seemed comfortable talking to her unresponsive form nonetheless.

Just as Fleur was beginning to lose patience with her two 'companions' Slughorn's plump form entered the room holding some ratty object. The unsightly man stood at the large table before them, smiling at them.

"Good evening, new Hogwarts students! I am Professor Slughorn, head of Slytherin house and Deputy Headmaster of this prestigious school. I…" He paused, his smile turning into a wide grin. "My goodness! The Delacours and Torres' in my school?" he asked, completely forgetting the other students who were also a bit preoccupied with the ethereal women.

"Professor Slughorn, lovely to meet you in person. My family knows you well." Elicia replied with a little smile.

Fleur also smiled, nodding slightly, preferring not to speak. She didn't know the man and was now regretting it. If Elicia knew him well enough to bestow a smile, then he must be useful.

"Ah yes, yes indeed. Things have been going very well for you I'm sure." He said, with a knowing look on his face. "But, another time. Tonight I must welcome everyone to a new and improved school! There is _much_ potential in these walls! A new year and a fantastic future ahead of us, no You-Know-Who to obstruct our way!"

He continued, informing them that they would have their sorting first, since they were older and from other schools. They didn't want to disrupt tradition and put the elder foreign students with the first years. It would have been inappropriate because the more mature students deserved a less patronizing welcome than walking in with eleven year olds and the younger students would have been more intimidated by their presence.

Fleur half listened as he explained that while the others were getting seated in the Great Hall, the older students would be divided into their houses in that very room. She promptly stiffened and addressed the man.

"Excuse me, _sir_, did I 'ear you correctly?" Fleur raised her eyebrow in trepidation as he produced a hideous, mauled looking hat. "We are to expect zat… zat hat to put us in our respective houses?"

"My dear Madame Fleur Delacour, I know the hat seems a little unappealing…" Fleur could have sworn she heard a mumbled protest emerge from the mangled piece of fabric, "However its magical properties are unlike any in the history of wizardry! You will place the hat on your head and it shall decide what to do with you. Don't be alarmed if it talks to you." He winked.

And so the sorting began. Fleur hadn't really been paying attention to her companions about what each house meant or the importance of which house one occupies. As people got up one by one, she quickly concluded that Slytherin was not a popular house. Perhaps she should have done some research before requesting admission to the school. Elicia looked as confident as ever, but unlike Fleur's similar façade, she knew the Spanish woman was genuinely comfortable, never one to be caught unaware.

As names were being called out, all she could do was fixate on that stupid hat. Hundreds of thousands of students since the origin of Hogwarts had put it on and it certainly showed. She distastefully considered finding a store nearby and purchasing some potion for lice removal… her silver locks infested… she shuddered. The school was as odd as ever, in spite of its improvements they continued to hold onto ridiculous traditions. Hideous horse carriages dragged by the morbid Thestral creatures, the architecture was much the same though larger, and now this ugly unhygienic hat.

"Ms. Delacour?"

She didn't so much as twitch, even though she was startled to see the whole room watching her. Clearly, the hat had distracted her. Fleur hated it when she was caught off guard. Yet her impenetrable stature was so powerful that if it were not for Slughorn's persistent, somewhat concerned, voice they would have thought Fleur intentionally ignored his call. She got up from her seat and almost glided toward him. People squirmed in their seats, staring at her, gorging themselves on her lean form. Elicia took a quick survey of the room and grinned at Fleur's retreating back.

Before she could protest the hat was firmly placed on her head.

"Well, well, never have I set myself upon a more luxurious head…" came a soft voice in her ear. She frowned slightly, Slughorn hadn't been kidding. "No need to worry yourself dear, there are no pests on me, although I do take offence to comments on my appearance. I shall have you know I look quite good for a hat my age, especially after helping bring down the Dark Lord…" it said, reproachfully.

This was an odd experience. She tentatively apologized to the hat with her thoughts, feeling a little confused and almost embarrassed. "Ah no apologies necessary, I understand. You're not the only one to think such things about me, certainly not the only person nervously trying to distract themselves…" To her horror a slight pink rose to her cheeks, struggling to come to terms with a mind reading hat. It could read her mind. Almost nothing in her life was private; people watching her every move, judging her every action, her thoughts were her only true safe haven.

"Now let's see, let's see… Hmm…." There was a long silence, now both in her ear and the room. "Odd, I've never come across someone so difficult in such a long time… not particularly ambitious… loyal? No I wouldn't say so, wouldn't say so at all... Bravery? Perhaps at one time but no longer, there is nothing to fear and nothing to fight for…"

Fleur began to feel a bit apprehensive. All that effort, getting admission and travelling such a distance only to be stopped short because a hat couldn't place her in a house? That was the equivalent of failing school and she hadn't even started the damn term! It wasn't as if her mother would be willing to give her yet another chance. She wasn't even sure her mother would believe the circumstances. Fleur could just picture her mother's sculpted face, eyebrow raised in derision, as she blamed her failures on a hat.

"Ahh… but there is yet one place for you. Intelligence is your weapon, though you do not utilize it all too wisely… An intelligent woman, if you ever regain those other qualities held in high esteem by the Hogwarts founders… you would be a force to reckon with." The hat paused, its last words were almost disparaging, "may you find what you are looking for in… RAVENCLAW"

Slughorn removed the hat and she shakily made her way back to her seat, carefully masking her flustered feelings and unable to notice the looks of approval she got from the room. She was in a house, but the hat had disturbed her, how it didn't know what to do with her. While others were being called up she contemplated whether she really lacked all those qualities. Courage, ambition, loyalty…

She grit her teeth in annoyance, the hat was a stupid little device, completely incorrect in its assertions. Lacking in ambition? She had entered Hogwarts; she wanted her inheritance and was slowly climbing the social ladder. Bravery? On a daily basis she endured the attentions of perverts, talked with powerful people, and dealt with her intimidating half-Veela mother. She smiled wryly; few people could say they survived Apolline's intense presence. But loyalty… well it was true that she cheated on any lover who expected monogamy because she had no interest in such a relationship. She wanted sex and fun. There was nothing wrong with enjoying life to the fullest, ignoring arbitrary moral rules when no one was really being hurt. Oh they all claimed to have hurt feelings but they were fools, they didn't know what love was. But she was loyal to her sister. Granted, she didn't talk to Gabrielle as she once did, sometimes forgetting to reply to her letters. And Fleur wasn't quite sure when she had last seen her little sister in person, but that wasn't the point. If Gabrielle ever seriously needed her, she would go to her in an instant. Of course she would.

"Torres, Elicia."

Fleur was brought back to reality, unable to hide her curiosity. The celestial creature glided over to Slughorn, showing no sign of discomfort when the hat was placed on her head. After a brief pause the hat shouted:

"SLYTHERIN"

People gasped in dismay and Fleur finally gave in, turning to the horrified male next to her and asking him what was the problem with Slytherin. He blinked confusedly, forcing his head to turn and focus on Fleur, away from the tantalizing dark Veela.

"Oh… ahh… Slytherin was the Dark Lord's house. When the final war happened a lot of the students in that house either left the battle altogether or joined the Dark ranks. Only a few people stood by the Light. No one wants to be in that house…" he trailed off to watch as Elicia settled back into her chair, her sinuous body shifting mesmerizingly. "Um, everyone wants to be in Gryffindor, that's where Harry Potter and his friends are housed. You… you're in Ravenclaw, which is definitely better than Slytherin and a bit better than Hufflepuff. Hufflepuff isn't a bad house it's just… boring." He finished. Once Elicia was seated and moving less, he seemed to wake up and realize a gorgeous blonde was paying him attention. Unfortunately he missed his opportunity. Ocean eyes turned away from him and went back to vacantly staring at random objects.

So, Elicia was in the most notorious of houses. Depending on Hermione's character that would either work for or against the pure blood, being part of the 'bad' crowd meant there was a certain dangerous quality to Elicia that could appeal to anyone. Not that she needed the house status to appear dangerous; everything about the woman was serpentine and wicked. It was more effort for her to behave innocently. Fleur almost scowled, _almost_. Hermione hardly took Fleur as an innocent angel and she hid her heritage far better than Elicia. Perhaps the girl's astute instincts would work out in the blonde's favour.

Slughorn was talking, something about going to the Great Hall for food and speeches. Before he dismissed them he called out to Fleur and Elicia. As the others reluctantly left the Veela, Elicia smirked at Fleur, who pointedly ignored her and turned to the overexcited fat man.

"My girls, I cannot begin to tell you how pleased I am to see the two of you here! Elicia, how is your father? I heard he managed the takeover of Rudolf's Rich Fabrics? Fantastic move on his part, place was cheap just after the war, now he can mold it into his own image!"

Elicia smiled, almost patronizingly, "Father is well, the transition was a success and we're already seeing an increase of profits this quarter after some downsizing."

He nodded enthusiastically then turned to Fleur. "And how is Apolline? I haven't heard from her in a while, still travelling around the world I suppose? Oh! And your sister how is she?"

It was discomfiting talking to this man about her family. But if he knew everyone's names and Elicia seemed comfortable… "Mozzer is fine. Yes she continues travelling, Gabrielle is in Beauxbaton." She finished quickly, not quite sure what to think of the man.

"Excellent…" he frowned and checked his watch. "I don't want to keep you ladies for too long… you need to see what we've done with the Great Hall! And of course, you need some supper," he chuckled to himself. "But please, if you ever need to chat, either one of you, let me know. I also hold parties from time to time, perhaps you'd like to attend the one I'm currently planning… we will speak of it later, but for now you must go." reluctantly, he bade them goodbye as they elegantly walked out of the room.

"What a strange man."

"Horace Slughorn, yes, very strange man indeed."

Fleur wondered if Elicia might explain to her who he was. There were rare moments when Elicia helped her regardless of their rivalry. She had yet to make sense of her momentary acts of mercy but it didn't hurt to try, so long as Elicia wasn't aware Fleur was asking for help.

"I don't know if I want to go to 'is parties. Awfully excitable man."

"Enthusiastic yes, that's usually a good sign. He's fairly well known in _very_ small circles," her little jibe on Fleur's cluelessness was quite obvious to the blonde, "as a man who helps others rise to the top. His enthusiasm indicates that we are of interest to him. Of course he expects a little compensation in return for his efforts. Small favours here and there."

Fleur contemplated this as they walked the halls together in silence. She didn't like the idea of owing someone anything, but it wouldn't make sense to put all her efforts on Hermione. The girl was unpredictable, for now. It irritated her though that Elicia was going to try chasing after the brunette.

"You're likely to fail you know. You're in ze house that fought against ze Light."

Elicia slowed her walk to a stop near a locked empty classroom. She leaned up against the wall with a lazy self satisfied smile on her face.

"Do you honestly believe that? You believe a house reputation will mar my image so deeply? Or that your pathetic words will deter me? My _little flower._" She chuckled softly as Fleur's eyes flashed in anger. The blonde walked purposely up to her, invading the pure blood's personal space. Elicia unconcerned, cocking her head to the side, provoking her.

"You are far too full of yourself Elicia. It is your greatest weakness. I suggest you stay away from 'Ermione, she will want nothing to do wiz you. You will only be an embarrassment to us Veela…" she trailed off, realizing her mistake.

"Us Veela? You speak of us Veela? You are but a mutant, a mangled human-Veela hybrid. You will never reach your potential. Do not speak of 'us' my love, you know so little of us and accept even less of us." She spoke softly, disdain passing through those tempting lips. It struck Fleur hard as it always did. She had always had a problem with her heritage, but to have that _bitch_ acknowledge it made her furious! The pure blood always seemed to love getting under Fleur's skin, and was good at it.

Before she could stop it she felt a rush of power, her raw inherited energy coursing through her veins. She forced herself to control it as it came to her. If she lost control it would be a matter of instinct: flight, fight, or fuck.

"Oh zis is excellent Cherie! Mock me for my blood? You will surely win ze 'eart of a Muggle born witch!" Her hands slapped against the wall on either side of Elicia, effectively pinning her in position. The digits seemed longer, bonier, partly transformed.

"I have no worries Fleur. If the choice is between you and I, well… why on earth would she trade me for a useless, confused little girl? You are _weak_ and pitiful. You delude yourself completely. You have _nothing_!" She snarled back, slate eyes turning black, skin shimmering in response to Fleur's angry proximity. The air was hot and charged; danger swam in the air as they stared one another down. But there was a trace of something _else_, a sweet exciting power exchanging between the two of them. Primordial natures came to the surface, their anger laced with lust. Fleur felt her heart beat faster at their closeness, noting Elicia's beautiful eyes were dilated and tearing into her with a mixture of indescribable emotion. Fleur wished that her own control was as good as Elicia's and that she wasn't cursed with Veela blood in the first place. She was _angry_ damn it and she wasn't going to fall prey to Veela thrall.

"What ze 'ell are you talking about?! I am a Delacour! We 'ave decades of 'istory behind us! I 'ave plenty of gold!" At this Elicia burst into laughter, right in Fleur's face, the canines of her teeth sharper.

"You?" She leaned in close to the blonde, her warm breath tickling and tormenting her skin. "You are not a Delacour. I may be interested in the Granger girl, but I don't _need _her. You have been reduced to a wretched little gold digger!"

_Slap._

Fleur hadn't even realized she had struck Elicia. Still reeling from the shock that Elicia somehow _knew_, she hadn't even considered that the woman might have only guessed. A dark red mark blossomed on Elicia left cheek, peeking from her shimmering hair. Fleur's body broke out into goose bumps, evolutionary mechanisms awakening, when a soft, feline growl escaped Elicia's lips. Her sex tightened at the sound, sending her emotions into an uncontrollable spiral of anger, fear and lust. The pure blood was displeased. Fleur didn't even see it coming, in an instant she was flung against the wall, _hard._

She grunted, the wind knocked out of her as she fell to a heap on the floor. Dazedly, she tried to regain her balance unable to breathe. The pureblood stood over her, panting slightly and flushed. The heat from her body was almost palpable and Fleur was drowning in it. Elicia was losing her hold on her powers, watching Fleur with a menacing hunger. She wanted it, so badly, to _feed _Elicia, no matter what the meal. It infuriated Fleur, her eyes flashed in rage at being so weak as to succumb to such small doses of Elicia's power so she willfully unleashed her sexual energy, lashing out at Elicia as hard as she could with it, hoping to daze her with lust.

_Flight._

No such luck. Elicia's hand wrapped around her arm and deftly lifted her up, dragging her toward the classroom door. She effortlessly waved a hand and unlocked it, entering the room with Fleur in tow. The door didn't close properly but she didn't care. Standing in front of the only exit, she tossed the gasping blonde to the floor.

Fleur's sapphire eyes had a slight sheen to them, her powers had peaked. Her nails were claws and she was stronger, her muscles faster. These features meant nothing to Elicia. The pure blood stood there, an amused, mischievous grin on her face. The only visible features of her heritage were her eyes, fangs, and her hair, which seemed a bit longer. There was no getting past her.

"Trying to seduce your way out of this? You have clearly lost all leverage."

It was a lie, Fleur could tell that the Spanish woman was standing on unsteady legs and her eyes lingered on the blonde's legs. But the resentment grew; her own thrall fell short even though that bitch leashed her own powers as tightly as she could. Fleur snarled at her in indignation and self-revulsion, whipping out her wand as quickly as she could, intent on cursing that smug, egotistical bitch to hell, but before she could even fathom a spell Elicia imperceptibly narrowed her eyes… and in an instant Fleur was struck dumb with _desire_. It was almost sickening, she couldn't breathe, and all she wanted was to _touch_, taste and do _something_. Her eyes watered and her back arched as she fell back onto the floor completely disoriented. She was going to die. Elicia was going to kill her and she would love every second of it.

And then the intensity was gone. As was her wand.

"Now, _that_ is how one would seduce their way out of this." Elicia smiled, twirling Fleur's wand between her lithe fingers.

Fleur's heart pounded with fear and excitement. She was wet and wanting but she absolutely _hated_ Elicia's smirking form in that moment. Fleur wasted no time, snarling as she jumped after Elicia.

_Fight._

Elicia nimbly stepped to the side, using Fleur's momentum to toss the blonde into a row of desks. Fleur groaned on impact, the wood battering her body. She got up as quickly as she could but Elicia was already in front of her, grabbing her by the ankle and flipping her back onto the floor. A swift kick to her stomach left Fleur gasping for air yet again. Adrenaline was pumping through her body, but she was quickly losing the battle. She swallowed the bile in her throat and looked up to see Elicia laughing, as if reading her thoughts. She gripped Fleur's ankle tightly, dragging her to the front of the class.

"Hey!" Fleur protested as Elicia leant down and yanked her up by the collar.

"What is the matter Fleur? Do you need a savior?" She slapped the blonde sharply across the face. Fleur cried out in shock, confused nerves dancing with pain and pleasure. That sweet breath caressing her face. She moaned a little, noting how Elicia's eyes glazed over at her response. She grinned at Elicia, licking the edges of her teeth as she proceeded to kick Elicia in the shin with all her might. The pure blood shouted in Spanish before pushing Fleur away.

Elicia was wincing and was probably slowed down. But Fleur knew this was stupid. Her first day and she was fighting. Worse, she was going to _lose_. There was no way she was going to win and Fleur wondered where her motivation came from in the first place.

The room was stuffy and both women were sweating, flesh hot from effort. Elicia's dangerous eyes bore into hers, preparing for another round, when the blonde suddenly relaxed, an idea had formed, showing itself with a tiny smile on her face. Elicia froze, eyeing her suspiciously.

Fleur sauntered over to Elicia, body charged with a new kind of energy, a promise. The Spanish woman didn't respond when Fleur completely took over her personal space, gripping her face tightly and pressed her lips forcefully to Elicia's. The pure blood's attempts to shove her away didn't work, she gripped her tighter, biting those lips angrily, demanding entrance. No one denied Fleur Delacour. Her sharp nails raked down Elicia's back, painfully marking the skin. Elicia moaned in shock, finally giving Fleur's domineering tongue room to enter.

Their energy swirled around the room, coating it with their distinct presence. The nature of their power was no longer mingling with the thrill of the hunt, but about fucking. There was no softness, no gentleness, there was only tension. They fought with each other, tasting and taunting. Elicia nicked Fleur's bottom lip with her teeth, sucking on the swollen skin, the bit of blood. Fleur tore off Elicia's robes, clawing her way along the pure blood's body but she wasn't able to remove her undershirt. Physical strength won the right to be in charge. Elicia yanked Fleur onto the professor's bare table, expertly removing her pants and robes, tossing them to the floor. She didn't bother with Fleur's shirt but took a moment to admire Fleur's panties before unceremoniously ripping them off Fleur's hips.

Fleur hissed in annoyance. They were one of her favourite pairs. But then Elicia slipped three fingers into her, without warning. She cried out as a hot stab of pleasure and pain pulsed through her already slick sex. Elicia's laughter rang through the air, coaxing and seductive, almost caressing her body. _Veela thrall…_ It almost made her jealous, but she was too busy enjoying the feel of it.

Fleur curled up, crunching her abs as Elicia moved in painstakingly slow rhythm, in and out of her. The noise of those fingers moving through her slick insides was the only sound she could hear for a moment, completely unaware of her ragged breaths coming in time with Elicia's hands. Her hips rocked slowly making the table creak and scrape along the floor. Fleur's normally pale skin was flushed and covered in a sheen of sweat.

"_You will learn, my little flower, what it is like to be with a pure Veela…"_ Elicia spoke, her French flawless much like the rest of her. She leaned in and sucked at Fleur's neck, biting on sensitive flesh and lapping at her ear. Elicia's other hand pinned her down, effectively cutting off her hips movements and further frustrating the part-Veela.

Fleur whimpered erratically as each stroke struck her sensitive sex like liquid fire. She was close. _Painfully close already_. But she couldn't finish… something was stopping her. To her horror, and ecstasy, Elicia was capable of keeping her on edge, _indefinitely._ A loud groan from the back of her throat escaped her lips without her permission. Elicia's body heat emanated from her clothes.

Elicia tilted her hand just _so_ and Fleur was suddenly making _noises_, low guttural noises she had never made before. She gripped the edges of the table, panting hard and driving those vicious, all knowing fingers, deeper into her. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head and she was mewling like a pathetic kitten. A voice of reason, in the back of her head, barely audible over all the activity between her legs, mildly wondered if she vaguely spotted a figure in the doorway. But that voice was quickly discarded as Elicia's hand slid out of her, making Fleur snarl in protest before those confident digits found her sensitive bundle of nerves. Thighs were coated and she could feel her ass slip along the now stained table as she thrashed and bit into her fist to keep from screaming, but Elicia was merciless… Rivals fucking, rivals mating, playing, fighting…

She looked at Elicia, intent on pleading, begging for release when she realized the Veela was looking haggard. She was panting, her eyes glazed as she watched Fleur. Elicia _suffered._ Fleur laughed, irritating Elicia enough to slip her fingers back inside and sharply twist her hand, causing Fleur to scream in pleasure.

Elicia hadn't won. Fleur was tormenting her with her reactions. She forced herself to keep eye contact with Elicia, stare her down as she purposely rode her hand. Grunting in time with Elicia's movements, she never took her eyes away, mocking the pureblood. Elicia wanted to make her come, she was certain of it. Veela loved to make others climax, they _fed_ off it. The better the climax the better the rush. This was about testing each other; this was another battle of another nature.

With a determined look her eye, she let go of the table and grabbed Elicia's wrist with both hands and held it in place, riding it hard and fast, driving herself _insane_ in the process. She now purposely allowed herself to make noises, moaning in French, praising deities and shouting approval_. _

Elicia had unconsciously spread her shaky legs while staring at Fleur open mouthed. There was a tinge of anger in those knowing dark eyes. Fleur couldn't even see her anymore but kept her head in Elicia's general direction, her hips bucking soaked fingers. _So fucking close_. A high pitched keening came from her throat and Elicia finally broke down. She quickly reached down and began rapidly flicking the fingers of her other hand over Fleur's over sensitized bundle of nerves. Fleur's body arched off the table and her hands flung to the edge of the table above her head. Elicia finally pumped her fingers hastily, making Fleur buck on the table, writhing and crying out as her climax hit full force. Her body went completely rigid, sparks danced before her unseeing eyes and she twitched violently as a second orgasm hit her when Elicia's hand left her. Darkness enveloped her and she quickly passed out.

The stupor didn't last long, however, as Elicia quickly cast an awakening spell. A disoriented and exhausted Fleur was suddenly hauled onto the floor. Elicia quickly pulled down her trousers and sat in the professor's chair, positioning Fleur between her legs.

As much as Fleur wanted to think of something clever, comment on Elicia's desperate need for release from a mutant human-Veela hybrid, the woman's potent scent struck her and she was overwhelmed by the need to taste her. With a final malicious grin in Elicia's direction, she dove forward and relentlessly assaulted the pureblood's sex with her mouth. The taste of the Veela was intoxicating, almost sweet. And so, so very soft. Fleur dug her nails into Elicia's trembling thighs, making Elicia hiss in delight. Fleur began eagerly lapping up at her swollen sex, making her whimper. Her fingers buried into Fleur's silken hair and holding her tightly against her, when Fleur tried to draw air the pureblood yanked her firmly back. Fleur made a noise of disapproval. One does not pull at a Veela's hair, Elicia knew this. To Fleur's surprise, Elicia gently caressed her scalp in apology.

She ignored the unnerving gesture and focused her attentions back to Elicia's sex. The Frenchwoman had _talent._ Her tongue moved, pliable and strong, conquering every responsive spot. The length of it was astounding as it slid deep within Elicia. Those velvety lips wrapped around the excited nub and sucked languorously. It wasn't very long before Elicia cried out sharply, shaking and spent.

They were both panting, the room thick with their scent. Eyeing each other warily, neither said a word, taking the time to recuperate and gather their bearings. There was a sense that neither had truly won. Fleur's face was coated with Elicia's arousal and the other Veela even had part of her forearm covered in Fleur's juices.

"Well…" Elicia panted, "for a half breed you are not completely useless." She laughed, in a good mood after such an orgasm.

Fleur scowled but it was also tempered by lazy contentment. "I still think you could use some work, Elicia, for a pureblood you only gave me release twice. Most unfortunate…"

"Hmm, I blame time constraints… we are supposed to be in the Great Hall. But I don't want to be a shame to my race. I shall have to rectify the situation in the future. When we have more time," she added as an afterthought.

They looked at each other intently, only for a moment. Then, without another word the camaraderie was gone, they got up on weakened legs. Fleur sought her wand while Elicia cast spells to repair her clothes and clean herself. When Fleur found her wand she did the same. Together they fixed and tidied the room. They knew what this was, not a friendship, not even a truce, this was just _fun_. They couldn't trust each other; Fleur was still concerned over Elicia's comments, and they were still rivals. She didn't want Elicia to snag Hermione, not if she could do it herself. She was _not_ a gold digger, she reminded herself. Fleur was not some leech, chasing after the brunette… they were just two people who could complement each other perfectly. Hermione had all the power but Fleur knew how to wield it. Elicia would just drain her of everything and move on.

When they left the room they were composed and aloof, as if nothing happened. The only sign of their activities was a slight pink to their cheeks. Fleur frowned when her boots landed in something soft. She blinked at the sandwich she had stepped on. What a strange school, she thought to herself, as she quickly used her wand to banish it from her. She decided that Hogwarts clearly needed to hire a new janitor… or perhaps the House Elves were getting lazy in their freedom. She was sated but hungry, and mildly curious about the new structure of the Great Hall. It was rather pretty when she last visited.

The half-eaten sandwich lay forgotten in the hallway.

* * *

A/N: And that's the end of chapter 5! Took me a while to get this up, mainly because of how much effort it took me to design the Great Hall. I know some of you wont like the changes I made, but thats the point, Hermione having to deal with her second childhood home, a place that affected so much of her life, changing with the times. We all know that feeling, the nostalgia and sadness. A recurring theme through this story will be about dealing with transition and change. You will, of course, be wondering where the money came from for all these things. All will be revealed in due time.

I also had difficulty writing out McGonagall's speech. After much revision, she fully encompasses my own personal feelings about the war JK Rowling wrote of. I do feel it was absolutely disgusting that the students had to fend for themselves so literally. That the government failed so terribly they and the school were controlled by Voldemort. I understand that JK had to write about these things in a fairly light tone because it's a children's story, but in reality the situation would have been horrifying and cruel. So that was my own little rant lol

I would also like to state that I had to do some research for this story, though I mildly referred to these other works they do deserve honourable mention. For info on the war and structure of the school I used harrypotterwikia and no I dont speak Latin. I dont remember the website but I came up with the words in English and found that translation. The English version is "Rest now sheltered from the storm" In case I wasnt too obvious, the storm was the war and those who are at rest are the dead, specifically the children. I hope it wasnt too cheesy, but I figure they would do _something_ in their memory.

As for a previous reviewer mentioning the origin of Elicia's name... The origin of a name is not the same as a direct translation. Elicia originates from the Old German Alicia which means noble. As for Torres, it originates from the latin Turris meaning living in or near a tower. References for the name origin are available to anyone who wants em. I tried to post em here repeatedly but wouldnt allow me to.

lol long ass Author's note from me again. I hope you all enjoyed the chapter, let me know how I could improve the sex, I think I did ok for a novice... And thank you to those who added this story to their fave and alert list! I am pleased to say the reviews have gradually increased for this story!

Note about updates: next two weeks are school hell. Will begin Chapter 6 of Cat and Mouse Feb 15th and then write 6th chapter of Walking a Mile afterward.


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: JK owns all characters and general HP stuff. I make minimum wage and it doesnt come from this lol

Thank you to my beta!

I want to apologise for the long wait. Last month was terrible for me. Essays, exams and work. School is done for summer now and I will be updating more frequently :) Hopefully earn your favour once more! Enjoy the chapter!

Edit: Annoying small mistakes fixed lol

* * *

_The images flickered, blurred and psychedelic. It was incomprehensible, nonsensical and disorienting but she _knew_ what was going on. She could feel everything. Her heart pounded loudly in her chest as the shadows writhed against one another in an intricate dance of such beauty it stole her breath away. Her own sex was hot and aching but she was paralyzed, her eyes seeing but so blinded by their energy. It was an out of body experience, she moaned to herself as her hips gyrated in the air but there was no delicious friction, no relief, they were driving her mad! The dance was going to kill her! She wanted to touch, to taste, to stand before them, to see them more clearly, to have them see her, to listen more closely, to – _

Hermione struggled awake with a growl. It was the third damn time she had awoken from her sleep because of that stupid dream. She collapsed back on the bed, her body flushed and sweating, still throbbing in an area she refused to acknowledge or relieve because it would be succumbing to the stupidity of the situation. Granted, unsolicited sex dreams were a step up from the nightmares she had to endure the few months after Voldemort died. But this had not been how she expected her first night in Hogwarts to progress and she was certainly reconsidering the logic in coming back.

She rubbed her temples in irritation, only growing more agitated when she realized the sun had risen and she was going to start off her first day of official classes without a good nights' sleep. And it was all Fleur's fault.

_It had taken quite a bit of effort on her part but she eventually managed to convince the House Elves to stop lavishing her with attention and elaborate dishes. One plain Ham and Swiss sandwich later and she was strolling toward Gryffindor tower, munching quietly and trying not to get too intimidated by the new rich mauve carpets and shiny new stones in the walls. Hard as she tried to keep positive thoughts, the past crept up on her. _

_Vivid memories flashed through her mind as she walked, of young people darting back and forth with their wands at the ready, dodging powerful spells. She would never forget the feeling of chaos and the painful noise… In time she might forget the little details but the feelings would forever be imprinted on her soul. She shivered to herself, trying to keep her appetite from disappearing. The last thing she needed was nightmares and an empty stomach. _

_Hermione paused in her brooding but wasn't sure why. It took her a moment but there was a noise. Normally that wouldn't be a problem, however something about it put her at unease. She canted her head and waited to hear it again. Someone cried out!_

_In an instant she propelled her body forward, bent on finding the source. At first there was no thought, only the instincts that come from being an experienced fighter. Her wand had appeared in her hand so rapidly one need only blink to miss it. Fingers were positioned perfectly and her grip was just firm enough to not give her any discomfort. She was a war hero, a skilled duelist and a genius spell caster. In mere seconds she had prepared several spells in her mind, no spoken words would be needed. She had faced death since the age of eleven and had met some people more horrifying than her nightmares could have ever envisioned. She was Hermione Granger. _

_But before she did anything drastic, her inner voice of reason quickly alerted her to stop and slow down. Just as she neared the door she changed her mind about several spells and tried to calm herself down. She was in Hogwarts, Voldemort was dead and there was no war. Hermione was overreacting and she knew it. It was probably some students fighting, no need to start hurling severe spells at a couple of rowdy teenagers. Feeling rather shaken and furious at herself for nearly injuring some idiotic students, she walked purposely toward the door, intent on making them aware of their stupidity, and taking out her frustration on them. Upon facing the door, she nearly collapsed; her sandwich fell to the floor with a muffled thump. _

_The aura struck her first, the disorienting, overwhelming, combination of carnality and desire… Her knees weakened and she had to brace herself on the door frame, gaping at the vision before her. Fleur. Writhing. Wanton. Good God, the sounds she made! Fleur was nearly naked and on a table, hips moving in rapid, erratic rhythm as she grunted and moaned, fingers white from gripping the table's edges. _

_And there was a woman. A dark, sensual divinity whose sculpted arm was steadily, relentlessly, pumping between Fleur's legs. She moved purposefully and confidently. In Hermione's stupor she was tempted to call them angels, as she had never seen anything more beautiful or raw than the sex between those two women. They were the power of the feminine personified. Their bodies sleek, curvaceous and soft in appearance but so damn _strong_ in all their movements. Her mouth had gone dry, her sex sopping wet and her mind was desperately trying to get a hold of itself as the urge to join them became almost overpowering. _

_It was all a matter of seconds but in the end she managed to hurl her body away from the door and break out into run. _

And so Hermione was quite flustered for a long time. Though she got to the dormitory for seventh years before everyone else, she could not sleep. There were few students in the seventh year dorm but Hermione wasn't able to feel lonely for very long. Girls she had never met before came to her bed and started chatting with her. By the end of it she learned a lot more about their lives, signed a few items and was thankfully a bit distracted. It didn't stop the dreams.

As Hermione sat up groggily on her bed, still too cranky to get up, she reconsidered her feelings for the hundredth time since accidently walking in on Fleur and her… companion. Her feelings were unsettling. The potent and overwhelming desire she felt _had_ to be the result of the Veela thrall. Hermione was fairly certain she was straight. Being an open minded woman she knew that people did have their moments of desiring people of the same sex. She was also, without a doubt, supportive of homosexuals having the same rights as heterosexuals. What did trouble her, however, was her own discomfort with how she reacted to Fleur and the other woman. Was it possible that she had some deeper issues with homosexuality?

Hermione was too tired and annoyed to deal with how often she did too much thinking. They were probably both Veela. That was the explanation for her… reactions. The damn dreams would go away when she got over the fact that for the first time in her life she had walked in on people having sex. Let alone two women having sex. Two absolutely gorgeous Veela, having sex.

She shook her head a little too aggressively to stop her train of thought and only succeeding in awakening a headache. Hermione decided she was uncomfortable because she wasn't used to being a voyeur.

"Not that I intend to become a more experienced voyeur." she nervously chuckled to herself, mindful of the volume of her voice.

She decided to push her worries to the back of her mind. It was illogical to keep harping on what she saw. It also made her quite uncomfortable. Besides, there were a far greater number of more pressing problems to consider. Potions was her first class and it required a lot of concentration and patience. She had barely slept and was now going to the Great Hall at an unnaturally early hour even for herself but her growling stomach was adamant. She needed food _now_.

Her clothes were still in her luggage as unpacking had been the last thing on her mind the night before. To her embarrassment she had roughly dug through her bags, yanked out her favourite sleep shirt and shorts, then tossed her robes onto her small table. Hermione hated disorder.

She took a moment hunting down her school robes before glancing at the small bedside mirror. Her hair was in disarray and she looked as if she were mauled in her bed.

_Not in the good way though…_

She managed to make herself blush with her own thoughts, before furiously pushing them away. Someone was going to have to pay for her bad night. Though she would never admit it, she was quite aware that even she was incapable of being completely fair to the world. In that moment she wished she hadn't left Crookshanks with her parents, she would have had at least one friend at Hogwarts, but he was getting too old to drag across London.

Feeling rather disgusted with herself, she gathered up some clothes and began searching for the shower room. In the past the shower room was at the top most floor of the girl's dormitory, just in front of the seventh year dorms. To her surprise, and pleasure, she found that they had improved this structure. There was now a shower room for each year, in front of their respective dorms. She recalled how shy she was at eleven and being forced to shower with the bigger girls.

_Hermione was nearly terrified. Climbing all those stairs to find herself in an enormous room filled with girls of all ages and shapes. She felt insignificant, underdeveloped and supremely bashful. So many girls were pretty, most were plain but a few poor girls decided to shower out in the open with the others even though they weren't as slim or pretty like them._

_"Good lord, they get fatter every year don't they?" Laughed one tall raven haired girl, pointing to a slightly chubby twelve year old who blushed and kept walking toward the farther end of the room, where there were shower stalls. _

_Hermione wanted to say something, anything, as the young women teased each other and the younger girls. It wasn't fair, the older kids were intimidating and mean. But she was scared, she didn't want the attention. She already had so much negative attention because she kept answering questions in class and the girls had more knowledge of magic, she was sure of it. So she kept her head down and walked to the shower stalls, a small, buried part of her grateful that they were distracted by another slightly scrawny girl. _

She didn't delude herself. Women were mean to one another, usually far worse than they were to men. But at least by separating the girls by age the power struggle would be more evenhanded. It hurt her though, to acknowledge the kind of garbage people put themselves through, all because people are too insecure to accept others as they are.

Hermione walked into the shower room and was amazed at the décor. The deep red and dark gold managed to mingle without looking tacky. Everything looked polished and she approved of the large obscure windows that let in natural light. Whoever designed the new look of Hogwarts seemed quite aware of the ominous and claustrophobic structure it used to have. She had to admit that some of the changes were definite improvements.

She walked to the farther end and stripped within the comfort and safety of the stall. In her mind, the body before her was plain and boring. She had put on a little weight over the year so her stomach had a tiny bulge that bothered her. As hard as she tried to remind herself that people had ridiculous, sexist ideals of beauty she couldn't help but suffer through self criticism.

She showered without looking too closely at her body, simultaneously embarrassed to have allowed the stupidity of mankind to affect her and yet ashamed of a body that was far from perfect. From the perfect Veela.

*****

When Hermione arrived at the Great Hall a half hour later it was still too early for many people to be there. The houses were still in their concentric circles but the positions had changed. It looked as if the tables had shifted overnight, moving outward. While the centre had been Ravenclaw, then Gryffindor, Hufflepuff and Slytherin, that morning Slytherin was at the centre, pushing Ravenclaw to be the second circle and every other house to respectively shift to the outer rim. Amused at this attempt to keep the houses moving throughout the hall so everyone had to interact, she took her place in the third circle, the Gryffindors.

Not surprisingly there was only one other Gryffindor at the hall. He was staring at her. What few students there were, they were glancing at her frequently. Hermione began pondering coming early for breakfast on a regular basis. Just these few people staring made her flustered. She decided to just ignore them and eat her meal. The magic in the school had greatly improved; just by sticking her hand out in the direction of a plate at the centre of the table, it would automatically set the plates to shift, almost artistically, until the dish was sitting just before her. It didn't take her very long to get distracted and momentarily forget her dreams.

She noticed that a few of the professors were already up on the balcony. An indescribable pain arose in her chest when she realized Dumbledore and Snape would never again walk the halls of Hogwarts or see the changes made to the building. The war had taken too much time from her, rendering it impossible for her to take any time to mourn. They dropped out of school so quickly after Dumbledore died; burying themselves in their tasks and then the year off with her parents kept her from coming to terms with reality.

Hermione regretted that she had never really gotten to know Dumbledore. He was very popular and involved in Harry's life, but she never had much interaction with him. Snape wasn't particularly friendly but she couldn't help empathizing with a man who had to live a lie for so many long years, only to die without ever showing his true self.

"Good morning."

Hermione blinked, dragging herself from her depressing thoughts to the present. Before anything could be done about it, she broke out into a deep blush at the sound of Fleur's sensuous voice. A sudden vivid recollection of last night made her skin tingle inappropriately.

"You're a Gryffindor now?" She asked suspiciously of the blonde already sitting next to her, one leg casually draped over another as she lazily grabbed a strawberry off a moving plate.

"Non, I believe I am… zis English word… Rave-clawed?" Hermione struggled to keep focus as Fleur played with the ripe, dark strawberry. Elegantly held between her slender fingers, she let the berry lightly dance over her lips.

"Uhm… it's… it's Ravenclawed – I mean Ravenclaw!" Hermione blinked furiously in an attempt to recover. It took more effort to clear her head from the Veela, not only because of the persistent memories but because she was quite tired. Hermione grit her teeth in annoyance as her sex awoke, demanding attention. Demanding Fleur's attention.

"Well, this is the Gryffindor table," she snapped. "Ravenclaws are supposed to sit over there; you should go sit by your table."

"I believe ze school is encouraging us to mingle? Besides, the 'all is empty, I zought it might be nice if I sat wiz someone I knew, but I see you 'ave woken up on ze wrong side of the bed oui? Or I 'ave somehow offended you in ze… two minutes I 'ave spent in your presence…" Fleur murmured idly as she placed that evil, enviable berry between her lips and into her warm moist mouth.

"It's not… not that…" Hermione was confused. The damn Veela was tormenting her, but how was Hermione supposed to know if Fleur was doing it on purpose? Nothing about her gave her away. Arctic eyes watched the brunette with mild interest; her demeanor benign but oozing with sexuality. The Delacour was tempting and beckoning but Hermione wasn't sure what she was trying to accomplish. She decided she needed to read up on Veela, perhaps that would help her understand Fleur's motives. Until then she had to assume the woman was accidentally affecting her. It was in her nature to give others the benefit of the doubt. Of course, Fleur was still an idiot for having sex in public and if Hermione wasn't so damn traumatized over the event she would have stepped in and stopped her. _Or perhaps join in…_

"'Ermione? Are you alright? You seem to 'ave dozed off…"

"I'm fine." She answered quickly, taking a sip of water to recover herself. "I'm sorry for being so rude, I don't normally wake up this early."

"Ah you sleep in, Cherie?

"No, I don't sleep in really, just never wake up _this_ early." She gestured weakly at her face, "is it not obvious?"

For some reason the sexual energy seemed to disperse, to Hermione's relief she felt her head clear up a bit.

"What are you talking about… you look fine…" Fleur looked away, her voice becoming distant.

"Well, you seem fine. I guess you're a really early riser," she tried to joke lamely.

"I don't sleep." Fleur turned and grabbed a plateful of pancakes, helping herself to one.

Hermione frowned at her cryptic response, not sure what had happened. For a moment they sat in silence munching away at food. Or rather, Hermione was eating with some gusto while Fleur played with her food, mashing the pancake slightly.

"Aren't you hungry?" Hermione asked between bites, trying to slow herself down so she wouldn't seem like a ravenous beast in Fleur's aristocratic presence.

"I don't eat much, generally."

"Don't eat or sleep, I suppose the Veela resemblance is just an illusion, you are really a vampire…" she tried, yet again, to make a joke.

"You 'ave no idea Mademoiselle, per'aps one night I shall… find my way to your bedroom and feast on your flesh…" Her smile didn't reach her eyes, which were tinged with gold. Hermione's skin broke out in gooseflesh and she wasn't sure if it was from fear or anticipation.

"Oh I am sure your boyfriend wouldn't approve of such things…" she laughed awkwardly.

"Mmm I 'ave no lover at the moment."

Hermione raised an eyebrow at this, remembering the dark haired woman Fleur had been with the night before. They weren't even dating? Or maybe Fleur was scared to tell anyone she was interested in women?

"You seem surprised 'Ermione." Fleur looked amused.

"Well I kind of get the impression that a girl like you isn't usually on the, err market for very long."

"Indeed, but I have no interest in leaving ze market just yet. I 'ave yet to find zat special someone…" she trailed off, hand playing with a lock of silver blonde hair.

"Oh." Hermione wasn't quite sure what she felt by her words. There was a subtle layer of cynicism in her tone that she picked up on. To her annoyance she felt happier knowing that the fling wasn't anything serious but also nervous that Fleur could just have meaningless sex that way.

_Good lord, it's not as if I'm actually considering her for anything… _Hermione got quite drained at that point. Fleur was a powerful presence and the constant battle with her libido so early in the morning was taking its toll on her. She had classes to go to and work to do.

"Look… I'm finished breakfast… and I need to get back to the dorm to pick up my books. Uhm, I'll see you around sometime… I guess." She mumbled as she got up.

"Alright 'Ermione, I shall see you later." Fleur's charming smile made her knees weak and she nearly stumbled on her way out of the Hall. If Fleur intended to be her friend, things were going to become quite difficult for Hermione.

*****

Fleur was quite irritated with herself all the way through her classes. To her surprise Hermione was in the Great Hall as early as she was. The girl looked tired and cranky but that made her w_eak_. Her inner Veela had scented the air and knew there was ready prey just nearby. And what did Fleur do? She backed away.

What would have normally taken her a short and efficient amount of time was now going to be needlessly drawn out. Had she made the effort Fleur was certain she could have seduced the girl in one day… Hermione was strong, but she was also naïve when it came to the subtle dangers of life. Her instincts were good but for the better part of Hermione's life she had only known obvious enemies, people who wanted to take advantage of her… Fleur was too ambiguous. They barely knew one another and Fleur had participated in the war, on Hermione's side.

The part-Veela was intelligent, manipulative and above all, she looked as if she were beyond reproach. Beautiful, with a practiced look of innocence, Fleur could control anyone to do whatever she wanted. For some reason, she was struggling with herself on how exactly to mold the young Muggle-born. This was going to end up being a lot more work than she had initially planned.

Her frustration made her classes pass by in a blur. The classes were small and contained all four houses. Apparently admission for seventh year was quite low. Hermione was in her every class, and although she could feel the girl's gaze frequently seek out her form, she chose to ignore her for the most part. She did note, however, Hermione's great discomfort with the constant whispering in her wake. The girl couldn't handle her fame. Fleur pondered a different tack, the consoling and supportive friend, helping Hermione in her new lifestyle… She had never had to put so much effort in figuring out how to approach someone before.

At the same time she was pretending Elicia didn't exist. It had worried her, the possibility that she might have difficulty moving on from the sex they had the night before. The trouble wasn't falling in love with Elicia, the problem was possibly getting addicted to the pure-blood. Veela were a far more dangerous breed than people gave them credit for.

A warm body brushed up against her as she left the classroom. Her inner-Veela tasted nerves, desire and shyness. The flavour was fantastic; a succulent, willing meal for a Veela whose ego had endured a mild beating since morning. Fleur caught the young girl's eye as she scampered away from her, trying to quickly make her way to the bathroom.

Fleur followed the girl, her high heels clicking austerely. She could sense the girl's nerves escalate. The girl knew she was being followed. Good.

"My _little flower_…" Fleur stopped abruptly, her little morsel scampering off, relief and disappointment both heavy on the air in her wake.

"What do you want Elicia?" She asked, her tone cold and wary. That Elicia had dared to interrupt was beyond rude.

"My apologies, I know you were… preoccupied. But I have to tell you, some of us older ones are planning on something tonight. Nothing complicated, but we're not exactly happy with the whole… curfew idiocy."

"Curfew? Zey wish to put us on a curfew?"

"Yes my love, a curfew, with the children."

She had gone to bed early the night before, quite sated after her tussle with Elicia, and read a novel, so she had not known they were going to be restricted.

"Zey must be joking… we are in our twenties…"

"Yes… but the logic is that they have had older students in the school in the past. Idiots who couldn't pass certain years and were held back, and the rules were the same for them too. We aren't supposed to stay out late."

"Zis is stupidity! We are adults! Zey cannot possibly be serious!"

"I tell you they are… we tried arguing with McGonagall earlier this morning, where were you anyway? I didn't see you in the Hall."

She had gone back to her own dorm after failing to eat much for breakfast. When the others had woken up she had intended to follow them to the Great Hall if only to test the waters of the school. Then she noticed the red-haired woman… she had spent the rest of the morning riding her face. To her delight, the woman was quite good, although her moping afterward was quite annoying. While it must be sad to cheat on one's boyfriend for the first time in one's life, Fleur didn't see why she had to force herself to sit there and listen to the woman's whining. It wasn't Fleur's fault the woman cheated and it certainly wasn't the end of the world anyway. The boyfriend didn't need to know and as far as Fleur was concerned, the excellent pussy licking wasn't worth the hour of sobbing.

"I was, as you say, preoccupied."

"Ah, so I see. Well, Jonathon – I don't think you've met him yet, he's our age – well he found out from another seventh year. We went and asked a professor and then we ended up in a futile argument with McGonagall. Apparently it's for our safety and it wouldn't be fair." Elicia rolled her eyes. "But we're working on a solution, should be done by tonight, I am an excellent charms spell caster." She smirked at Fleur.

"I am sure… what exactly are you planning?"

Elicia briefly scanned the empty hallway before getting closer to Fleur.

"We are going to create portkeys just for the few older students. No need to start allowing the children to follow us." She paused, "of course if you have someone you wish to play with, that is your own business. But tonight we'll party somewhere. Jonathon and I haven't decided yet. We'll be handing out the portkeys once we're done."

"Alright, I'll see you all tonight…"

They stood there for a moment; sizing each other up, neither quite sure if their momentary truce was still in place. Fleur decided to make things more clear. She wasn't in the mood to deal with Elicia's cruelty at that particular time. Her impotent attempts to ensnare Hermione left her tired and Elicia knew she had committed quite a taboo by interrupting her latest… meal.

"I'm off to my next class _Cherie_, but I will wait for you tonight. Let me know if zere is something I can bring, like wine…"

Elicia nodded, allowing Fleur to pass by. The Veela was no longer poised to strike but carefully gave Fleur space. The time for play would be later. Perhaps later that night.

*****

Hermione had finished classes feeling confused. Having become accustomed to large classes full of students, she had not prepared herself for the emptier rooms. It was quite strange seeing all the houses together.

What made things more difficult was the obvious attention she was getting from students. When she left to use the bathroom everyone started twittering to one another, her name heavy on the air. Never in her life had she been more embarrassed to use the toilet. It was like her every insignificant move became a newsworthy event. She was mildly paranoid that she had spent too much time in the bathroom and that now half the school thought she had a problem…

To her chagrin, she was also distracted by Fleur's presence. Fleur and that other woman. Far too often she caught herself glancing over at the both of them, the two women hardly took any notice of her furtive looks. With a lot of effort she managed to get through her classes without making a complete fool of herself. She even managed to answer a few questions the professors asked.

What was really strange was the level of respect she got. For the first time at Hogwarts when she answered questions almost the whole class stood to attention as if she were imparting some great wisdom gleaned from her experiences in the war. _People didn't mock her_. Any other person would have basked in the limelight, ego bloated and ripe. Hermione, on the other hand, was confused and anxious. She didn't like having so many people aware of her actions, blindly following her.

She skipped lunch and dinner, opting to eat with the House Elves and avoided wandering the halls, lest she come across more imagery she would rather pretend didn't happen. Her body s_till_ reacted to the memories. She was half tempted to sneak back into her dorm and give in to her needs. The only factors keeping her at bay were the fear that she would get caught by the various admirers that followed her around… and it personally offended her that a woman like Fleur could ever produce such a reaction from her.

She resolutely made her way to the library, trying to ignore the small trail of people following her from behind.

"_The_ Hermione Granger…" a svelte feminine voice made her stop in her tracks.

Everything went quiet. She wasn't sure if it was because her followers were stricken with the same awe that she struggled with or if the very presence of the woman altered reality. But none of this was normal.

Hermione had to bite off a scream of exasperation. There simply _had_ to be some restrictions on Veela thrall!

"Yes, my name is Hermione. And you are?" she asked curtly.

"My name is Elicia Torres."

Her beauty was beyond human nature. The friendly smile and warm demeanor radiated amicable welcome, but the eyes watched Hermione with a hunger, voracious and wicked. She felt rather dizzy, trying to make sense of the multitude of reactions that coursed through her body. There was fear and there was anticipation, even excitement. Hidden within her, she wanted to be chased. Hermione had never been chased by anyone, but to be chased by this woman…. Elicia… her whole presence made so many promises, decadent and dangerous all at once.

"Ah, Elicia… nice to meet you." She managed to choke out.

"The pleasure is all mine. It is not often that I meet one of the most powerful women in the magical world." Her smile was delicious and beckoning. Hermione turned a deep shade of red.

"Oh no, I have yet to learn of every spell. In fact I think Margaret Schpickle has the most extensive knowledge of magic, she's even been alive during Grindelwald's reign. She's been professor at Ireland's magical academy, the name escapes me right now but she's won a multitude of awards and –"

Elicia chuckled softly, shivers breaking out along Hermione's spine in response.

"Darling, you are too cute when you ramble like that." She flashed a brilliant white smile. "You are by far one of the most talented women on this Earth, the things I have heard about you make my head spin in wonder. I really hope to get to know you better Hermione, I am sure we could be good friends, you and I."

She was so mesmerized by Elicia's presence she hadn't noticed how close the woman stood to her. The heat off the woman's body seeped into her own, making her flushed and disoriented. It was much harder, ignoring this Veela. She had to be more Veela than Fleur.

"I… I don't know what to say."

"Say you will come by tonight. Us older students are planning a little party, get to know one another…"

"Where?"

"We've decided to meet quite a bit farther away. Past Hogsmeade there's this beautiful forest. We've learned it isn't enchanted. A beautiful large pond… should be fun tonight."

Hermione's muddled brain struggled to hold onto a coherent thought. Elicia's nearness, her scent and her voice were making her thoughts move more slowly, completely fixated on the woman before her. Faintly, she wondered if she was capable of resisting the gorgeous woman. Old habits, however, die hard.

"Wait… isn't that against the rules?"

"Well yes, but I think in this case they're being too strict. We're of age, some of us veterans of the war. It is ridiculous to expect us to behave like the younger students."

"But we'd be taking unnecessary risks." Her mind cleared up slowly, demanding Elicia relinquish control.

The raven-haired woman looked perplexed. "I heard you had relaxed… regarding the rules."

"Yes that was during the war. And always because it was unavoidable." Her prefect's voice returned to her with less effort, "and just because we were in the war doesn't entitle us to some special privilege. Countless numbers were affected by it, if you intend to be fair then you need to invite the whole school. Everyone was at the very least petrified of Voldemort."

For a moment she couldn't read Elicia's expression. Somehow she got the impression she was surprising the woman. Then Elicia appeared to recover.

"Yes this is understandable… I suppose we just want the older students to get to know one another better, and since we are mature we figured we would do fine with a bit of personal responsibility. I respect your decision, whatever it may be, and that you feel uncomfortable joining…" She produced a delicate bracelet, silver and quite pretty with what appeared to be onyx stone, "here, if you change your mind press one of the stones to your pulse point and say: into the forest. Should you decide not to join the party… you'll at least have the freedom to travel should you choose to."

Hermione got ready to protest, perhaps threaten to expose their plans.

"I do hope that you can respect our decision too, Hermione. We are not some first years, we are of age. And you are not a prefect, so the responsibility is on us individually. We just want some fun, I think… I think we deserve some fun after what we went through and we're certainly old enough to know the difference between safe and dangerous fun." Her presence had softened, gentler and apologetic. She leaned in and pressed her strong, soft hand on Hermione's shoulder, making the brunette shiver, memories of that hand's activities the night before, flooding her mind. "I hope you do not lose respect for me after this… I really want to be your friend, should you allow me that particular privilege…"

And with those whispered words Hermione was brought back to earth, holding the bracelet in a hand she did not recall holding out, and Elicia had already turned the corner of the hallway. She caught herself staring for a few minutes before forcing herself to move.

She was disoriented and confused. Why were two of the most beautiful women in Hogwarts trying to spend time with her? Hermione could almost believe Fleur because she didn't know anyone at the school, but then women like Fleur didn't lack friends for a very long time. What little connection the two of them had through the Weasley family didn't seem sufficient for the amount of attention Fleur was giving her. Perhaps it was a French custom? And then the gorgeous raven haired woman… Elicia. They didn't know each other at all but Elicia wanted to get to know her better. Become _friends_ she said.

As Hermione found her footing, walked the halls more purposefully, she felt embarrassed about how much she was over thinking things. She had never been particularly popular at school, limiting herself to a few close friends. Sure she was known by many people, either through Harry or her academic… fervor; she had never had many friends. It was possible that she was so out of the loop she lost touch with being… a human being. Years of her life gone to helping Harry fight the Dark Lord or studying. _Years_.

She agonized over the feelings that were churning inside her. It wasn't fair to resent Harry. He hadn't asked for the Dark Lord's attention. She didn't _have _to be his friend all those years. All she had to do was ignore them and move on. Besides, with her social ineptitude she was liable to be a loner regardless of Harry. Everyone hated her when she started out at school. But still, a part of her struggled to forgive Ron and Harry for needing her so much. For being so dense and lazy that even when they knew their lives were on the line they didn't lift a useful damn finger to save themselves. To learn how to solve issues on their own. Hermione had become their surrogate mother, their guardian angel, ever watching as they made their mistakes and always fixing them.

She worked hard and the world was saved. And now what? Powerful, mammoth businesses were knocking on her door, begging, bribing and promising Hermione that very world she had saved. And she choked. She had no idea what to do or say. All she knew was her promise to herself: finish school. Harry and Ron were safe, the world was safe, Hermione was ridiculously famous and she had no idea what to do. She _hated_ them for impacting her life so greatly and then it was over and everyone went their separate ways. No one even bothered to humour her about coming back to school.

Hermione frowned as she realized that, in a way, she was glad she was alone in Hogwarts. She had no one to be responsible for but herself. She could start anew. Long gone was the anal, naïve girl of eleven. In her place was a more mature, though still insecure, young woman. A woman with experiences few could compare to.

She glanced at the bracelet in her hand and decided to go out that night. It wasn't something she had planned to do initially but studying at the library seemed… like a waste of time. She could always do it another time, her marks would always be excellent, and Elicia was right: Hermione had earned the right to some fun.

*****

Fleur arrived to the little party quite late. She had nearly forgotten about it while she tried to force herself to read some of her texts. At most she accomplished reading three pages in two hours. Somehow she ended up daydreaming to herself or people watching rather than reading. Things were not looking too hopeful for her academic career. However, she comforted herself in the knowledge that it was only the first day so she really had nothing to worry about.

When she was properly dressed in some casual dark blue robes she muttered the incantation and her bracelet warmed on her wrist. In a matter of seconds she was standing just a few feet away facing a pond. It was better than apparition, she hardly felt any change.

"Fleur!"

She turned to the familiar voice, trying to place his name.

"Ah… R…Ri…"

"Richard!" came his peppy reply.

He was the one who gave her the bracelet. A rather short boy with spiky black hair and an easy smile. There was nothing wrong with him physically, but she just couldn't find him attractive. She supposed it was his never-ending sunny disposition. He spoke for far too long with too much excitement and Fleur knew that if she gave him her attention it would take forever to get rid of him. Took her nearly one damn hour to make him go away after he handed over the bracelet.

She nodded to him and swiftly moved past him to the others, ignoring his stammering.

The air was chilly and she was glad for the charms on her robes. Although from a distance she realized she may not have needed the spells. They had a bonfire going and transfigured several rocks into oversized pillows. She reached into her pocket and retrieved the wine she had enchanted to fit the palm of her hand.

Several people greeted her, Elicia included, when she arrived. She returned the bottle to its normal size and transfigured a cup for herself. For the most part people were merely relaxing and chatting, a few snogging. Fleur kept to herself, learning the interaction within the group. She didn't have the innate ability Elicia had, to read people so clearly without calling on her inner Veela.

Before she could decide on who was worth her attention, a blast of wind indicated a new arrival. Hermione Granger. Fleur, and many others, perked up instantly.

Fleur paused, a strange feeling in the pit of her stomach, as Hermione made her way nervously to the small crowd. She looked so nervous and fragile, Fleur almost felt… _sorry_ for her.

"Hermione! I am so glad you could come."

Fleur's hackles rose at the sound of Elicia's melting voice.

"Yes… sorry I'm late…" she blushed when she noticed one couple making out quite heavily by the trees.

"'Ermione, come sit by me Cherie, you look cold." Fleur's eagle eyes observed the brunette intently. It was a perfectly innocent suggestion, the intention nice enough. And if Fleur understood socially awkward people, they would cling to the one person they knew best when at a party. She hadn't known Hermione would be coming. Hadn't even believed Hermione would be one to go to such things. But she knew Elicia invited Hermione over. No one else would be so bold as to talk to Hermione directly. Hermione sat next to Fleur, effectively backfiring Elicia's plan.

Elicia was hidden behind the flames of the bonfire directly across from Fleur. The part-Veela smiled confidently at the sneering pure-blood. Hermione was too distracted by all the activity to notice.

"Here love, 'ave some wine." She wished she had brought some better stuff but it was the best she could do, smuggling in some alcohol at the last minute.

"Oh, I couldn't…"

But Fleur needed Hermione to relax. If the brunette was uncomfortable drinking then she had to delicately find a way to encourage her.

"Ah one cup will do nothing to you. 'Ere, please try some of mine." She smiled softly, offering her cup to Hermione, her energy gently caressing and soothing Hermione's nerves. Not too powerful or the girl would notice and what little trust she was gaining would be lost.

Hermione seemed a bit calmer when she took the cup and sipped a bit of it. She scrunched her face a little at the taste.

"I am sorry… it was ze best I could do…"

Hermione blushed, her natural sense of good manners prohibiting her from saying anything negative.

"I don't have too much experience with alcohol."

"I see…" Fleur's smile became an almost grimace. Why the hell was any of this bothering her? God damn it all to hell.

Hermione sipped some more of the wine, completely oblivious to Fleur's growing internal battle. She was an easy target. Such a deliciously easy target. But Fleur had to admit she had never actively sought to manipulate anyone the way she was with Hermione. People came to her and she used them. The brunette didn't want Fleur's attention; she was quite literally hunting Hermione. It was aggravating, battling with the last piece of her soul.

Before she could settle her internal struggle some boy started talking to Hermione.

"Wow I can't believe I am here with _the_ Hermione Granger herself!"

"Err yes… pleased to meet you… uhm I didn't catch your name."

"Neil." he grinned and sat on the other side of her, his black eyes shining oddly in the firelight.

Fleur watched him carefully because he made her nervous. Something about him was unstable. Hermione was clueless but Fleur noticed the strange way he watched her, like he was looking through her. She didn't follow along with the conversation until he reached into his pocket and took out a small vial.

"You ever try this?"

Hermione frowned, her defenses back into place instantly, Fleur almost flinched at how powerful and quick the change was.

"No… what is it?"

He laughed, an almost hyper, deranged giggle. "We call it Assbane. Try it, it's really good stuff." He offered it to her.

"No thank you." Her tone was cold and uncompromising. "I don't do… that."

"'Ermione… why don't we-"

"Aww come on Hermione. It's really fantastic. Well ok the side effect isn't too great. Lots of farting. S'why we call it Assbane." He laughed as if his little joke was hilarious.

"No thanks."

"But it'll –"

Hermione turned red, looking really upset. She looked around for some support when her eyes fell on the couple that was making out but had, during her distraction, had begun having oral sex. The girl's head was bobbing up and down while the guy was gripping the tree trunk behind him. Fleur groaned mentally, _oh Elicia, you idiot, inviting her to this…_

At that point there was no saving the situation. Hermione got up abruptly and dashed to the spot by the pond. Fleur only just managed to catch up to her.

"'Ermione wait!" The brunette seemed to ignore her. "Cherie, come on I only want to apologize…"

At this Hermione stopped and turned to her.

"Apologize for what? You set this up?"

_So suspicious… for the wrong things…_

"No nothing like zat… I admit I didn't quite know what kind of party zis would be… but I 'ave known Elicia in ze past so I should not have expected any more of 'er. I am sorry I did not warn you, I believed she 'ad changed. I 'ave on occasion been invited to parties hosted by her. Needless to say I was surprised. I was not sure she was in charge of zis party."

A perfect opportunity to bring Elicia's personality to light. Not that she was going to admit she knew perfectly well what kind of party this was going to be, or that she had hosted such parties herself. But she had been remiss, too startled by Hermione's appearance to think clearly… and then the idiotic feelings completely distracted her.

"Oh… what… what is this anyway? Some kind of… sex party."

She was rather amused by Hermione's naiveté.

"Well it is not a sex party, exactly." She had never seen a woman turn so deeply red. "At least it does not start off as one. It just might become one." Fleur shrugged. "There are few rules, though I am not really aware of zem. An… how you say… Any-zing goes party?"

Hermione looked appalled. "This is some sort of orgy!"

Fleur nearly burst out laughing. "Non! Non, people go off and do whatever it is zey want to do."

"You've been to these parties?"

"Oui, but I never stayed for…" Fleur feigned discomfort, "ze _rest_ of ze party." That was an outright lie, but she knew a prudish girl like Hermione would shut down completely if she knew Fleur herself had had sex with strangers at parties, or did any of the drugs. However she had never participated in an orgy, though she had been invited a few times. Even for her very open mind, that was too much.

Hermione squirmed where she stood, eyeing Fleur with distrust.

"Look, I'm going to go back to my room…"

"But I am sure zat zis is nothing like zat sort of party…"

"No, really, I'm tired and… and I have a lot to study." Her voice seemed distant.

"Well we don't have to stay. Come now Cherie, show me around your school."

"Perhaps another time. Umm how do I get out of here? No one told me."

Fleur sensed that the matter was over. "Say: out of the forest."

"Thank you." And with that, Hermione disappeared from view.

As Fleur made her way back to the party, which had simmered down since Hermione left so dramatically, she analyzed the new problem she had to deal with. The brunette was sexually conservative. Not exactly in tune with Fleur's sexual lifestyle. Hermione was also very smart and difficult to control. Living with her would be difficult. She couldn't just have affairs and expect Hermione to be oblivious. The damn girl was resistant to her thrall and had a sharp mind. Fleur calculated that she would have to expend all her energy to keep Hermione under her thrall.

But then what did she expect? That the girl who had a hand in defeating the Dark Lord was as weak and simple as the others? Not that she wasn't manageable… but she really should have foreseen the challenges. There she was just a few minutes ago struggling over whether or not to hunt the naïve and innocent little girl Hermione appeared to be. There was no time for such stupidity. She needed to secure her future, especially since she doubted her ability to get out of school and find a damn job worthy of her time and effort. Her mother might disown her and then what?

Elicia wasn't going to waste her time like Fleur was. Her anger intensified at the ridiculousness of the situation. Hermione was a young woman, perfectly capable of making her own decisions and certainly strong enough to irritate Fleur.

"Something upsetting you?"

Fleur looked up to see a handsome, tall young man with sandy blond hair and grey eyes. To her surprise he was looking at her with only mild interest, not the absolute adoration she had become accustomed to.

"Perhaps…" she raised an eyebrow at him.

"Reiner. My name is Reiner."

He was leaning up against a tree trunk, just a few feet away from her. She was surprised to find herself far from the party, too absorbed in her thoughts to keep track of where she had gone.

Reiner slid down to sit on the earth, still unnerving her with his gaze. She automatically released some of her thrall, her mind unsettled by the new treatment. He continued to see unfazed.

"My goodness, you seem flustered…" he chuckled. "Relax. I am more immune than the average person." He frowned for a moment. "I am probably one sixteenth Veela or something."

"Ah, I see." She sat next to him, feeling calmer. The males are the weaker sex among the Veela. Little to no thrall, they did not change, even the purebloods. Their appearance was normal. However they were highly important to the Veela population. In an interesting twist, it was the male who carried a special version of the Veela gene. A male Veela could produce a child of pureblooded magic regardless of the female he bedded. Males were considered potent and attractive mates when they had the ability to create such children. It was what ensured the survival of their race.

Even the male with the least amount of Veela magic or heritage could produce a female of pureblooded magic. And the interesting nature of the Veela gene from the male meant that those females would reproduce as if they were pureblood, creating half-blood children if they mated with humans. The female Veela could only pass their bloodline as it stayed. Which is why Fleur never stood a chance; her father and grandfather were human so she could only be one quarter Veela.

Reiner was a male Veela, no matter how small the connection. This meant he had far stronger defenses than the average human.

"Well, zat makes sense zen." She murmured, feeling slightly relieved.

"Yes, and I'm gay."

"Oh." It was always easier to utilize the thrall against someone whose natural inclination would have drawn them to the Veela. She laughed a little.

"Yes I know… all those Veela women eyeing me… total waste of time."

"Ze world can be so ironic sometimes."

She sat next to him and they fell into a comfortable silence.

"So, how are you enjoying Hogwarts so far?"

"I'm bored. I don't like it here and I miss home." There were useful secrets and pointless ones. She figured she could trust him enough with tedious conversation.

"Ah. But things should get better. I'm looking forward to exploring the famous castle."

"Where do you come from?"

"An academy in the Netherlands. When I heard Hogwarts was reopening and lightening the requirements for older students to enter... not an opportunity I was going to waste. It's too bad Granger ran off. I would have loved to have gotten to know her… then interview her."

"Interview?"

"My focus is magical history. I want to write comprehensive and interesting texts on magical history." He reached into his pocket, producing a small notebook. In it were several diagrams of the school. "This is not just about my education. I really want to compile information, get started on my book. I mean it's ridiculous how boring the texts are right now. You would think the history of the magical community would be fascinating… I'm sorry, I'm rambling now."

She rather liked Reiner, he made her genuinely laugh.

"Well I still wish I was home." She murmered.

He paused, a thoughtful look on his face.

"There might be a solution for that. I know a spell. It's a bit complicated but it will basically allow you to materialize any part of your house… anywhere."

"Like… an illusion?"

"No. Quite literally. So if you go to your Hogwarts bedroom and cast the spell, your room from back home will just materialize there."

Fleur perked up. That would be fantastic.

"But I should warn you, the spell is incredibly dangerous." Reiner leaned his head back against the tree, looking tired. "In fact the book it comes from has been labeled a Dark Arts artifact."

"What is wrong with the spell?"

"It messes with reality, the time-space continuum. Some people have messed up and entered another dimension. No idea where they went and they never come back. I think one idiot messed up a part of the spell and didn't know it because the room looked normal. He tried to look out of the window of his materialized room and… err… it gets weird. The top half of his body turned to ash."

"_Ash?_"

"Yes. Very odd. But I think it's the other spells in the book that labeled it of the Dark Arts. Everything in it is really dangerous." He shrugged. "Some people find great success with that spell. If you like I can send it to you to look over."

"You trust me that much?"

"You are Veela." And that was all that needed to be said. No matter all their individual issues, the Veela community was tightly knit and protective of one another.

"Alright. Zank you. I would love to look it over." In the very least, the magic might peak her morbid curiosity.

He smiled at her and for an instant she could see that Veela charm flash in his straight white teeth and supple lips. The smile warmed her.

"I should get going. This isn't really my kind of scene. I just liked the idea of being able to leave the grounds." He got up and dusted off his pants, winking at her as he took his leave.

Fleur nodded, almost sad to see him go. She had never considered making friends with male Veela. The idea appealed to her now. No competition, no blind lust, just someone to talk to. Though she didn't think she could trust him as easily as he could trust her.

"Hey there."

She looked up to see a very muscled and delicious dark man heading toward her with a cup of wine. It was quite unlike her to spend so much time in deep thought during a party. With a sly smile she took the cup he offered and decided to salvage what was left of the night, leave the thinking to tomorrow.

* * *

A/N: Couple of things to cover!

One: I have a poll on Livejournal (my homepage) and . My beta has been suggesting that some people might not like the long chapters! So I am seriously asking for people's opinions on the matter. My chapters will reflect the poll results. Find some time to participate, even if you anonymous readers/reviewers just wanna hop onto LJ and copy/paste what it is you vote for! Thank you!

Two: I completed a Hermione/Pansy one shot that is only available on my Livejournal. This is because it is rated NC-17 and contains explicit/graphic sex. does not allow for stories of that rating. Feel free to read it there, the tags are fic and hermione/pansy. Any NC-17 fics I have will be up there instead of here.

Three: I dont mind if your review is basically asking me to update soon. I am glad you enjoy my work so much you want to nag me a bit ;) But please refrain from repeatedly writing that, it just clutters my reviews.

Lastly: Thank you guys so much for your encouragement :) The steady increase in alerts/faves/reviews brighten up my day and remind me why Im making an effort to write as much as I can in the best quality I can provide. I hope you enjoyed this chapter, please drop me a review :D LJ anonymous reviewers get a full reply from me shortly after reviewing!


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: I own nothing that JK already owns. Thank you to my beta for correcting my numerous mistakes!

Sorry for the delay!

* * *

"Bordon, Stephan."

In the farthest corner of the room, a famous bushy haired brunette was slouching in her seat. The normally alert and eager student had hidden herself from view as best as she could. For the first few weeks of school Hermione had tried to be stoic about her fame, stubbornly fighting to act normally in spite of her discomfort. But with the passage of time she found herself hiding in the back area of the classroom, rarely raising her hand and generally trying to make herself invisible. The results were mixed: instead of gawking at her when she was at the front of the room, students suffered trying to catch her eye and not get caught by the professor. All she really accomplished was making it more difficult for students to stare and more annoying for the professors.

"Hey your name should come up soon!" Joshua whispered loudly, causing a sea of eyes to descend upon them.

Hermione groaned and tried to sink deeply into her seat, silently cursing Joshua for his excitement. She couldn't stay mad at him for very long though, his good natured peppiness and bright golden eyes always put her at ease.

"Honestly, Joshua, keep it down!" she whispered peevishly. "You're too loud, people are staring."

"It's Josha, not Joshua." He sulked.

She couldn't help but grin at his sulky expression and recall when they first met.

_For weeks she had struggled to find solitude while simultaneously suffering from loneliness. She had no friends and plenty of admirers. After the party both Veela tried to contact her but she managed to keep away from them. They made her uncomfortable with the way they looked at her and she couldn't shake the memory she had of them together. It didn't make sense, their relationship wasn't visible in public in any way so they had to be casually having sex, or perhaps hiding it from the public eye. _

_It wasn't that Hermione was a complete prude, and after Ron she was no longer a virgin… but there was a wariness inside her. Both women came off as if they had some other intentions for her. She wasn't even sure they lusted for her body. But they certainly lusted for… something. It was an odd, disconcerting feeling she didn't know how to pin down. All she knew was that she had to avoid them. _

_And it was fairly easy to avoid them, considering her desperate attempt to run from everyone in general. During her year off she had lived in a protective bubble. Because of her Muggle status, the wizarding community was strictly prohibited from following her around and making themselves obvious. Even reporters weren't allowed to track her down and take photos since they was so incompetent in their disguises. But now the protection was gone and Hermione awoke to a bed full of fan mail and gifts. Many embarrassing gifts. She still couldn't believe one lunatic had sent her his silk boxers. _

_"It's Hermione Granger!" Someone giggled in the distance. _

_While the attention had finally petered off to a tolerable level, she still couldn't believe how many people wanted to talk to her. It wasn't like that for Harry when he first arrived at school. But it made sense. When Harry arrived he was a vague legend, eleven years past the height of his celebrity. He had been a baby, which also made idolizing him difficult. There was no difficulty raising Hermione on a pedestal. Fresh from the war she actively helped win, the people were fawning over her__**,**__ and she had no idea what to do. _

_"Hey!"_

_She ignored the voice and sped up in the hallway, grateful that they weren't crowded. _

_"Heeeeeeyyyyyyy" called out the sing song voice. _

_No, she thought to herself, I'm not answering any damn questions or signing anything, I just want to get back to my dorm and call it a night._

_"Aww come on!" he paused. "Ok, fine, I suppose you don't really need your potions text. They say you're a genius." _

_She finally froze in her place. When she turned she had to do a double take. He had rich burgundy hair that could rival a Veela and golden brown eyes. _

_"I'm flattered, I didn't think I could make Hermione Granger's jaw fall open." The stranger grinned broadly at her. _

_"Y-y-you! Just give me my book." She stammered, failing to stop herself from blushing. _

_"Aww come on, don't be like that I'm just teasing!" He laughed and promptly wrapped an arm around her as if they were old and familiar friends. Hermione was speechless at his relaxed demeanor and confidence, especially after having spent nearly a month surrounded by flustered teenagers, and years among awkward boys. _

_"My name is Joshua, buuuuut I prefer if you call me Josha. It's what my baby sister used to call me!" _

He had an easy smile, one that warmed her. For the first time in her life she had a friend that asked nothing of her except her attention and amusement. She didn't know how much she could trust him and open up, but with his contagious grin she was quickly growing to adore him. To her surprise and joy he was sorted into Gryffindor. Josha was a transfer student her age but he came to Hogwarts late. She didn't think to ask him why. She found that after the war her curiosity for other peoples' business was sated, perhaps never existed except for Ron and Harry's insatiable need to pry into the secrets of others. Josha never offered a comment and she didn't bother to ask.

"Granger, Hermione."

The soft whispers exploded into excited murmurs. In a haze of embarrassment she got up and grabbed her paper before nearly sprinting back into her seat beside a laughing Josha.

"Hermione, you really need to learn how to get used to this." He snickered while the professor continued calling out names.

"I can't get used to this! I wasn't meant for this kind of attention!" she hissed back at him. "I mean really! When are they going to get used to it and stop bothering me?"

"Hmmm maybe after a couple of centuries… by then it will be your great-great-great grandchildren who will have the privilege of having your name and reputation." He smirked at her sullen expression. "But I'm sure you'll get used to it long before then. It's inevitable. Something happens to you often enough and you can't… help but stop feeling anything for it." A brief shadow passed his face but before Hermione could mention it, his name was called up and he got up to get his paper.

She bit her lip in worry, eyes following his retreating back, and wondered if perhaps she should start asking him more about himself in the future. As happy as she was with their relaxed relationship she wouldn't easily slip into self-centeredness. It wasn't her nature.

She glanced down at her paper and sighed contently at her excellent grade. A gentle, musical laugh filled the air and before she could stop herself she turned to spot Elicia's beautiful face smiling widely over her paper. When she caught Hermione's eye she grinned broadly and winked, making the brunette blush and jerk her head away.

Clearly, Elicia's grades were acceptable. But then, it appeared as if everyone in class was satisfied with their grades. Hermione frowned, unsure if the material was as easy for others as it was for her. It certainly had felt as if the paper took a lot less effort on her part. She couldn't recall any time when so many students were happy with their marks.

"What's with the face?" Josha asked when he got back to his seat.

"Mmmm nothing… I think."

"You couldn't have possibly gotten a low mark have you?" concerned by her frown.

"Oh, no I have a high mark, like usual."

"I should hope so!" he laughed wryly. "I mean they should be even higher than usual, what with everyone being marked gently."

Hermione froze in her seat and stared at him agape.

"What?"

"I'm taking Advanced Herbology, made friends with the professor and, well, she kind of let it slip that the school is going to be kinder to students when it comes to the material…" he slowed down when he saw her face turn a deep shade of red.

"They… they're going easy on us." It was more of a statement than a question, a very livid statement.

"Well… come on… most of the people here are only coming because they need their diploma… remember when everyone was asking for immunity for the students here? No one really wanted to come back here, especially after the war."

"That doesn't mean we need coddling!" She smacked a hand over her mouth when she realized how loud she was being.

"But Hermione," he added softly, "loads of people have bad memories from this place. Your last year was spent among the woods. Many students lost their lives here. They need to go easy."

She blinked quickly to get rid of the tears threatening to spill over. It was not like her to be so brash. But to have the school coddle her? Could she allow it? Could she accept it?

I am not _weak,_ she snarled mentally.

Keeping her voice composed, Hermione closed the conversation, "Fine, but I'm going to talk to McGonagall, I still don't think it's fair. She said she was going to give us the tools to survive in the outside world. How the hell are we supposed to survive when we're being spoon fed? In the very least, I demand that I get proper training." She crossed her arms tightly.

"Ever the alpha." Josha muttered.

"What?"

"Hmm? Nothing." He blew her a kiss which only warranted him a patented Granger scowl. He grinned like a boy who got just what he wanted for Christmas.

"Alright everyone, that will be all for today." The professor fumbled through the few remaining papers. "I suppose those who didn't pick up their papers today will be doing so during my office hours. Do let them know."

Fleur was one of those people. Not that Hermione wanted to admit that she noticed the girl's absence, but then how could one not notice that a woman with shimmering silver-white hair disappeared from class? At least it made things more comfortable for Hermione, only one Veela to be wary of. Yet she couldn't suppress the feeling of disappointment when she realized Fleur would not be coming to class. She half wanted to go barging into Ravenclaw and demand the blonde return. But that _would_ be very odd, and definitely unnecessary. She wasn't a prefect, and even if she was it was up to professors to decide what needed to be done.

"Are you going to be eating with the lowly masses today?" Josha asked, breaking her thought patterns.

"Don't say it like that; you know the staring makes me uncomfortable." Sometimes his little jokes irritated her.

"Yes of course. Well this time I'm eating at the Great Hall, don't wait up for me at the common room. Niiiiight Hermes." He called as he abruptly turned away.

Hermione really wished she could figure him out. But before she could think things over, a snowy white owl landed on the window ledge and hooted at her.

"Hed- uh…" Hedwig was dead. Not that long ago. This was Harry's new owl, Remmy. She wished he hadn't chosen such a similar looking owl. It was an insult to Hedwig's memory, but then she supposed he found comfort in that familiar face.

The owl stepped away from the package Harry sent. She reached out to pat him gently but he fluttered away to the Owlry. Irrational anger surged within when she remembered how Hedwig would wait to nibble at her fingers affectionately.

She drew a deep breath, intent on calming herself before she read Harry's letter. With any luck the package contained his infamous Invisibility cloak. She nearly ran back to the dorms.

*****

A girl – Anita - was on her hands and knees between Fleur's legs, lapping up what was left of their encounter. Fleur moaned to herself as she stretched across the bed, relaxing her tense muscles. Anita was _good_, so Fleur took care to memorize her name for future reference. That tongue did wonders, but those long fingers… some divinity had blessed those fantastic fingers. She looked down to see Anita's glazed expression. Only to be expected when one witnessed a naked, stretching Veela.

"Zat was very good."

"Yeah?"

"Mmmm, I am almost tempted to return ze favour."

The spike in excitement coming from the girl almost disoriented Fleur. She damned her inner-Veela for being so sensitive to others' emotions. It always messed with her head but years of control had refined her ability to ignore that part of herself.

"But we 'ave class tomorrow. And I must attend it…"

"Please… you wouldn't have to do much… or for very long…"

And that was it. Her needy little whisper completely turned Fleur off. Intellectually, she knew the girl had no choice. Fleur had been an insufferable tease.

_But they always need me don't they? Constantly vying for my attention, demanding my time and energy. All of them. At once. _

"Per'aps anozzer day." Fleur flinched at her accent, wishing her frustration didn't enhance the damn thing.

"Oh… um, ok then. I guess I'll go back to my bed." She murmured looking away awkwardly.

_Ah no, this wouldn't do, she's too good to lose._

Fleur grabbed Anita's forearm as the girl tried to get up. She pressed her lips softly to Anita's, caressing them gently before flicking out her tongue and nibbling on the girl's bottom lip. Anita sighed as Fleur entwined her fingers into her burgundy hair. When she pulled away Anita was breathless and flustered.

Fleur could just imagine the sight Anita beheld. Her silver hair a halo in nightfall, eyes now a midnight blue, and dark swollen lips. Her inner-Veela peered out, changing Fleur's face into a practiced expression of sin and promise.

"Some'zing to hold you over… for anozzer day."

Anita melted before her, smiling like a giddy little girl before kissing Fleur on the cheek and running off to her bed.

And so Fleur was left alone on the bed. The girl was hers, her loyalty sworn in her gaze and the flutter of her heart when Fleur appeared. But Fleur didn't give a damn.

She lay there in bed trying to ignore her feelings. Normally she didn't like sleeping alone, usually kept a bedmate. But she needed to get up in the morning and actually go to class.

Things had not been going well for her. After the party Hermione avoided Fleur like the plague. To her delight, the brunette also gave Elicia a wide berth. But it was annoying; the girl was studying like a fiend and difficult to catch. Hadn't said a word to Fleur, not even a glance, and the Veela was not accustomed to such behavior.

So Elicia and Fleur were at a stalemate. But things had gotten even more complicated as the first month went by. She had really tried, in the beginning. Every morning she got up and went to class. Completely useless attempts, since she always slept poorly – if at all - due to her current bedmate-of-the-week. So she began skipping classes. She tried to make up for it by doing the course readings, and for the most part she had kept up with the subject matter.

So Fleur wasn't lying to Anita, she actually did have to get up in the morning and go to class. She wanted to check on her progress, in classes and in her… extracurricular projects. The brunette wouldn't be able to avoid her in class. True to her record, Fleur always managed to balance work and play. She had already found a few people willing to do her papers for her so she wasn't particularly worried about her written assignments. The exams would be more problematic.

She leaned over to her bedside table and grabbed her wand. After a few complicated taps on the bedside table, an invisible compartment opened to reveal a packet of cigarettes. She lit herself a fag and curled up against the headboard, resting her arms around her knees.

It was quiet, except for some soft breathing. She hated it when it was this quiet. There was a time, once, where she used to love the night. The subtle beauty of darkness. It softens every feature, is gentle on the eyes and makes one aware of the mysteries of the universe. It is also tinged with a sinister warning. She loved it as a child. Fleur smiled to herself, remembering how her mother scolded her when she caught the little Veela sleeping on balconies. Her smile grew deeper when she remembered how Gabrielle started to follow her to sleep outside. In the end her mother gave up trying and set up security spells to protect them, and temperature spells to keep the weather away.

Ah Gabrielle, she had nearly forgotten her. She decided to write to her sometime. To her shame, she couldn't remember the last time she initiated a letter to her little sister. But then, a lot of things were long past. No longer was nightfall a comfort.

She would never admit it, to herself or anyone else, but at night she was paralyzed by loneliness. As she sat there in the dark, taking drag after drag on her cigarette, she felt a heaviness in her heart. Fleur suddenly wished she could call Anita back. But calling her back would only distract her. Particularly in the morning when she should be getting ready for class, and not trying to sneak a quickie.

Her eyes drooped a little but it was futile. She could not sleep. Frustrated, she got up out of bed and stretched herself to her full height, glancing out the window in an effort to find distraction. The mountains lay just outside, awesome and beautiful. Unfortunately she didn't get a view of the lake. Her race loved the water. Sleep would have come more easily had she faced the lake, she was sure of it.

She got dressed in her school robes and checked her watch on the drawer. Three in the morning. Drained and irritable, she glanced around the room for something, _anything_, to focus on other than her own ridiculous emotions. She blinked when she noticed an odd book peeking out from her bed. She reached down and realized it was that book she got from… whatever his name was. The male Veela.

She ran her fingers over the worn leather. It was brown, only about two hundred pages, and nameless. She had never thanked him or affirmed that she got it. Though on thinking it over, she was surprised he didn't even attempt to meet her since the party. She decided she would talk to Elicia about setting up another one, see if she could chat with him then. Maybe even chat with Elicia. They hadn't really talked since.

She grabbed the book, shrunk it to pocket size and decided to go for a stroll. Technically there was no need for her to break curfew, she was perfectly capable of reading the book in her room. But she was restless and angry with herself. The motivation behind stupidity comes in numerous forms. Fleur pulled the curtains open from her bed, her house's blue and bronze colours all over the room she shared with a handful of girls.

_Matches my eyes, _she thought ruefully.

She wandered out of the common room and began aimlessly walking about the halls, using her exceptional hearing to keep from meeting any visitors unexpectedly. The book was nestled safely under her arm as she walked. After a few minutes of pointlessly risking her academic standing and subsequent inheritance, she realized she could go to the library. First time for everything, she realized, since she normally didn't care for libraries.

It was a bit of a struggle, figuring out where the library was, because the school was still a disorienting maze for her. The fault was her own, since she only ever left the grounds illegally or went straight to class. Not much exploring the castle when she was busy exploring the bodies of a select few students.

After about thirty minutes worth of dodging ghosts and one annoying, scraggly cat she managed to find the library. She opened the doors carefully and snuck inside. The interior was large and elaborately structured. It would have been beautiful in the daylight, but Fleur was unimpressed, being quite familiar with ancient, oversized architecture all her life.

She sighed and ambled around the stacks, hoping to find something interesting. She didn't have to wait long. Fleur paused when she picked up on a strange sound. It was as if someone had turned a page. Not normally an out of place sound in a library. But at three in the morning she had reason to be perplexed. Perhaps it was a professor? Did she just walk out of the frying pan and into the fire? She waited until she heard it again.

The most cautious action would be to avoid a confrontation and just leave. Return to her bed and try to force some sleep, or perhaps steal some sleeping draught from the medical wing of the school. But Fleur had long ago decided that caution disinterested her. She called upon her inner-Veela, shivering as her body slowly stiffened. Pleasure and pain seeped into her muscles as her body grew stronger and more agile. Her night vision acuity increased tenfold. She had to close her eyes, trying not to react. It was ridiculous, she rarely allowed herself to experience the change because it was so… awkwardly enjoyable. She didn't feel comfortable with how _good_ it felt. The quicker, the better. But then, she didn't want a quick change to alert whoever was hiding around the library.

She stopped just short of completing the change. Oh, she would never have the beak or wings – thank Merlin – but she didn't like what little changes occurred. If it wasn't so useful she would never allow the transformation. She hated how much she liked it, it turned her on and made her feel powerful.

Fleur made her way to the sounds with the careful and patient movements of a predator. She stopped for long periods of time, meticulously keeping track of where the person seemed to be coming from. But Fleur was perplexed; she saw no sign of anyone in the room. No lights, no shapes, no other goddamn sound to give them away. Had to be a professor, who else could hide from her so well? But then why would a professor need to hide?

She moved forward, toward a corner of the room, well secluded by a rack of heavy tomes. It was the potions section. She peered into the corner, bemused and wary. The energy in the air suddenly became tense. Fleur froze and stared blankly at the corner. There was an empty bench and large window. She had been spotted, she knew, but the person wasn't making themselves known.

"'Ello?" She asked softly.

There was silence. She continued to stare at the corner. Her nostrils flared and she caught an odd scent.

"Who is zere?" Fleur waited. "I know you are zere. Speak up."

She remained where she was, between the rack of books and the wall, effectively pinning the person in their place. She waited, trying to ignore the anticipation. What she couldn't understand was why they weren't trying anything. Didn't they have a wand on them?

Suddenly her inner-Veela perked up, there was movement, she could sense it! The hunter in her picked up the change in air flow and she flung herself toward the wall, hearing a surprised grunt. A soft body crumbled under her as she slammed the person into the wall. Fleur frowned when she felt a strange fabric against the skin of her arms and face.

_Invisibility cloak?_

The individual groaned just as Fleur pulled the cloak away.

_Merde._

*****

_Damn you Harry Potter._

She had asked Harry for one favour and one favour alone: lend her the invisibility cloak. Though it was no longer common for her to open up to her old friends, she couldn't help herself and started ranting about the fame she found herself in. But she figured that everything they had been through, it should have been ok to ask for one small kindness from her friend. Indeed, Harry sent her the cloak... but it came with a request.

She shouldn't have been surprised when she got a letter from him begging her for help. Harry seemed confused, it came as a shock to him that being an Auror was a strenuous occupation. Harry was in over his head. Something was happening at the Ministry of Magic. He told her the Aurors were working with the Unmentionables but it was difficult to communicate with them because of their secrecy. The break in communication was causing strain between the two groups, each one feeling the other was disrespectful. Aurors were furious that they weren't trusted to information vital to their work, especially since they were forced to involve the Unmentionables in the first place. Of course the Unmentionables were, in turn, furious that the 'incompetent' Aurors expected them to give up sensitive information.

At that point of the letter Hermione realized what he wanted before even finishing the letter. The bastard wanted _her_ to help him with his homework! Again! Worse than that he wanted her to do the research his team was incapable of doing. Amazing. She couldn't so much as ask for one damn gift from him after all her efforts to help him in the past.

But what could she do? It wasn't in her nature to turn down a friend, especially when there were so few she could call friend. Afterword, she would speak to him about calling on her. It had to stop. She promised herself she would only do the minimum required of her as a friend.

Harry was so relieved to hear that she would help. He wasn't authorized to tell her much, much to his chagrin. It seemed as if the Golden Trio _did_ have limitations. They didn't want Hermione involved. So he gave her two words that were available in the public domain: Blood Realm.

Hermione had never heard of it before. She replied in the letter**, **telling him she had never heard those words before, but that she managed to figure out that they were searching for a place, and from the sound of it, an ominous and foreboding one.

She never implied in any way, shape, or form that she was interested in helping him. The time had long past when little Hermione played the hero of the magical world. Harry's saviour complex led him to a career as an Auror. Hermione had no intention of actively looking for ways to save people. So she told him she didn't know and left it at that, hoping he would realize that she had offered him no help and would leave her alone.

Harry fucking Potter.

In the past she had never complained, so perhaps it was her fault… but they were so young and the world was asking so much of him: to defeat a man with vastly superior magic and a deep sadistic streak, since the age of eleven. He never had a choice; everyone was expecting him to be powerful, especially the Dark Lord. Of all the children paid tribute at Hogwarts it was his lost childhood that was sacrificed the most. So she helped him willingly and enthusiastically. But it was time to grow up. Harry didn't have to choose to be an Auror. It was no longer her obligation as a friend to take care of him throughout his every challenge.

But he begged her. To her disgust, Ron had joined in and written her, begging on Harry's behalf. She promised him the least she could do: check the Hogwarts library. She knew he would be hurt, too dense to understand. She could still remember the letter, word for word, clearly in her mind.

_Dear Hermione,_

_Well thanks I guess. I was kind of hoping you could do a bit more, I mean you're the brightest witch of our age. But I guess you're busy with school, working like mad as always. But you did find time to help me with Voldemort even when you did your O.W.L.S. But I guess things are different now. I hope there's something in that library. Write to me soon. _

_Thanks,_

_Harry._

She had grit her teeth through the short letter and could barely read it all the way through. The way he kept trying to subtly guilt her, admonish her for not offering more. Hadn't he taken enough from her?

And then Ron, ever tactful and polite:

_Hermione,_

_I checked in with Harry today. Bloody hell what's happened to you? Best friend needs a little help and you aren't even trying? It's been a whole year and you barely wrote to us! Only to ask if we were going to school. School. School. School! I'm going to the archives of Britain's largest library. Least one of us will give him some help. Honestly, you study too much!_

_Ron. _

She almost wanted to write back and tell them she didn't want to help them at all. If the whole damn Ministry was incapable of figuring the situation out then she couldn't be bothered. And hell, if they were going to use her _again_ then she should start charging them. A hundred galleons a day, she smiled grimly. Granted… the Ministry was hounding her for her attention ever since Voldemort died, but she didn't want a job. She just wanted to learn.

Normally she would have jumped to help them but for some _inexplicable_ reason she found herself taking her time researching. It didn't help that she finally had a heavy workload reminiscent of her old days at school. But the conversation between her and McGonagall left her disheartened.

"_How have you been Hermione?"_

"_I'm alright… and you Pro—Headmistress?"_

"_Ah yes… we're still getting used to that title aren't we? Headmistress." McGonagall trailed off as her mind wandered to the past. "I never thought this day would come. I think we all believed him immortal. Almost as if there were no Headmasters before him and certainly no Headmasters after him…" _

_The lines in her face were deeper since they had last met. It had not been obvious, with McGonagall so distant in the Great Hall, but war had taken its toll on the old woman. Hermione got the impression that her old head of house, the austere icon for Gryffindor, didn't want to be there._

"_Is everything alright Prof—Headmistress?"_

"_Hmm? Oh yes everything is fine. But I'm sure you're here for a reason Ms. Granger, you don't usually stop by for a chat." She smiled softly. _

"_Uhm… well…" she had prepared herself to rant and rave about the changes in the school. But sitting before her mentor, especially in her weakened state, created feelings of guilt. It wasn't McGonagall's fault, they needed to renovate. _

"_Well I guess I just feel… I feel…"_

"_You don't like the changes." McGonagall deadpanned. _

"… _I just… I… I want to learn!" she breathed nervously. "I thought with the announcement you made that you would be training us for real life, much like before! Then I come here and realize that we're being marked easily and our work is lighter. It's not fair, I came here to finish my diploma legitimately! Ever since the war everyone is trying to get me to skip steps!" at that point she was quite red in the face and nearly in tears. Ron and Harry refusing to go to school. Businesses offering her positions. Everyone wanted her to just skip everything and go forward. No pauses and no breaks. There was a constant pressure, a demand for her time, screw all the rules, everyone had to have a piece of Hermione Granger. All she wanted to do was study. One normal year at school. _

"_I understand." McGonagall murmured to herself when Hermione finished. "Well let me make things perfectly clear to you Hermione, and I hope you keep this to yourself." _

_Hermione was still panting too hard to answer so she simply nodded her head. _

"_Currently there is great political and economic pressure on Hogwarts. We have made ourselves internationally visible. I am doing my best to keep things away from the students but… private businesses are trying to buy up pieces of Hogwarts. The government too is trying to influence us, from within our student population to the structure of the school." Her face contorted in disgust. She walked up to the fireplace, hiding her expression from a dumbfounded Hermione. _

"_We have made ourselves very important. They want us to expand the school itself. Some of the renovations have already been paid for by various companies. One particularly wealthy family paid for the tables in the Great Hall… Soon I will have to erect placards in honour of their… _donations._" She spat. "The school's face is changing. I am… doing my best to keep things together, keep them at bay."_

_She turned to Hermione with despair written all over her face._

"_You have all suffered greatly. Hermione(,) you know you are one of the few students here that is actively seeking a challenge. I will give you that challenge out of respect for your great contributions during the war. But out of respect for their sacrifices… I must be gentle with the students. I will _never _allow them to leave this school unprepared. But it would be cruel to push them._

_Next week I will be announcing a new system we have put into place. With the help of contributors, naturally…" she sighed. "We have hired Counselors to help students cope in a confidential and safe environment. I sincerely believe that this will help the students far more effectively than simply teaching them how to utilize their magical tools… Hermione… perhaps you might want to talk to one of them…"_

_Hermione's expression closed up completely. _

"_I'll take that into account."_

"_Of course… well. If it pleases you, I will tell the professors to increase your workload accordingly, if it is your wish."_

"_It is." _

She had left the room horrified and heartbroken. Everything had changed and she never had the chance to truly lay back and appreciate what used to be a second home to her.

It was over a week before she snuck into the restricted section. Disturbed by McGonagall's words and finally dealing with an adequate amount of homework, she didn't particularly care about whatever secret Harry was harboring. She had considered asking McGonagall for a note but she couldn't risk having someone catch her researching the "Blood Realm"; Harry might get in trouble for telling her what little information he gave her and revealing the Ministry's interest in whatever the hell that place was.

In keeping with her newfound taste for procrastination, it was her second night at the restricted section. She was lazily flipping through one book about opening portals, fully intending to leave in an hour. No point wasting her sleep. It was supposed to be fairly simple, just sit there and scan the book, naturally unable to find anything. At most Filch would show up, but she was safely hidden under the cloak and capable of quickly leaving if the old man showed up. But she forgot to account for one absolutely vital piece of information.

Anything connected to Harry Potter, even coincidentally, always ends up horribly wrong.

She knew this, had been by his side for seven years. Yet, when she suddenly found herself cornered by Fleur Delacour, her mouth had dropped open with shock. What was supposed to be a boring night alone in the library ended up with her sprawled on the floor under a rather alarming part-Veela. Her face looked odd, almost bestial.

"Ow…" Hermione blinked as Fleur aimed a wand in her face. "Hey! Hey… that's ok. I'm fine…"

"You 'it your 'ead," she snapped, her accent thick.

"Yes but it's not so bad, really, I don't feel any symptoms…. You can get the wand away from my face now." She scrambled to her feet.

Fleur reluctantly put the wand back in her pocket and stood up.

"I suppose I am not making great strides in improving your impression of me." She smiled wryly at Hermione.

"Heh, well it's not your fault. I was sneaking around late…"

"Yes, and just why were you hiding here? And where did you get the cloak from?" She leaned down to pick it up and examine it closely. Suddenly her eyes went wide with awe. "_Incroyable!_ Zis – zis iz! Zis is ze cloak!" She stammered in broken English.

"Ah, yes, that's Harry's cloak." She eyed Fleur warily, the fanatic gleam in the blonds' eyes making her nervous. She wasn't sure if Fleur might steal it.

Fleur looked up and smiled at Hermione slyly, as if contemplating exactly such an act. But then her smile softened and she handed it over. A peculiar thing happened then: their fingertips brushed and Hermione suddenly felt inhumanly hard skin. Fleur jerked her hand away.

"What was that?"

"What are you doing out so late 'Ermione?"

"I… was doing research. For school." The air had changed and she suddenly felt a bit dizzy. Fleur looked… softer in the darkness. She wished she could cast a light around the room to see more clearly. Something told her she had just missed something important but she couldn't risk getting caught. Especially with Fleur.

"Research? Zis late? I know I haven't been to class lately…"

She could feel Fleur's gaze on her and it made her nervous.

"Well I'm doing extra research…. I didn't want to be here during the day because… because…" she flailed for some logical explanation. "I just don't like the attention you know… so I come here when it's empty." She nearly sighed with relief.

"You expect me to believe zat you are here at three in ze morning just because you're scared of your admirers? You could easily take out those texts in the day and take them back to your room." Hermione tensed when Fleur looked around the stacks of books. "What section are we in?"

She panicked and reached out to grasp Fleur's shoulder.

"Who do you think you are interrogating me? You're up late yourself!"

There was a heavy silence.

"I could not sleep. I suppose I am restless." She canted her head at Hermione. "You are known to be a most kind and generous girl… per'aps you would like to help me get rid of some tension?"

Fleur was standing too close. Her exotic perfume making Hermione feel dizzy. She tried to turn away, to find a way out.

"We need to get going…"

"What were you really doing 'ere 'Ermione?" her soft voice gave Hermione goose bumps.

"I-I'm studying…"

"Hmmm zis is not ze most believable story…" She ran her fingers lightly over Hermione's hair, nails gently trailing over her cheek.

Hermione was breathing faster, which meant she was breathing more of Fleur's delectable perfume. What was it? What did it taste like?

She was dazed. What little light came through the window cast shadows over Fleur's face, making her skin look like milk and her eyes so very dark… Such soft full lips…

"Fleur…"

The blonde didn't reply, and all of a sudden Hermione could move no further, her back against the wall.

The only sound in the room was Hermione's rapid breathing. She couldn't stop staring into Fleur's eyes, she had never seen such hunger. Certainly not toward her. She had no idea what to do or what on earth was happening. Fleur was standing close. Fleur was standing _really_ close. And oh God she could feel Fleur's breath on her, her warmth and – hands on her shoulders, effectively pinning her in place.

"Uhh… Fleur…." She breathed in surprise. Her clothes felt too tight, too warm and she could feel Fleur's body under those robes. A firm powerful body under aggravating clothing. Without thinking, her own hands settled on Fleur's waist.

_Narrow hips… bones jutting out? So skinny… _

Hermione blinked confusedly, but before she could process anything Fleur had lightly grazed her lips along the corner of her mouth…

There was a tightness in her lower stomach and Hermione knew exactly what it meant. The lightheadedness intensified as Fleur leaned in, fusing their bodies closer. She could feel every curve... Hermione unconsciously spread her legs… The book rack creaked loudly.

_Book rack. Library. Library? The books… _

Hermione froze and suddenly the tension was gone. Fleur looked at her in shock.

"What?"

"Oh… nothing." She slipped away from Fleur's stricken hands, carefully nudging the books she had grabbed for Harry under the bench. She pulled away from the corner agitatedly. The thrall and it's aggravating potency. What was Fleur trying to accomplish? She had completely forgotten why she had come to the library in the first place. And she had nearly… nearly… nearly! Damn you Fleur! She was furious.

"Now just what the hell were you doing?!" She snarled as quietly as she could.

Fleur drew back, innocently surprised by her outburst.

"What do you mean?"

"Don't pretend you're _that _stupid Fleur! That was your thrall wasn't it? What do you want?"

"Perhaps I am _that _stupid. But tell me, what do you zink I want, if I used my thrall on you?" Fleur raised an eyebrow, making Hermione turn a deep shade of red. Fleur laughed at her expression.

"I am in no mood to play games! It's three in the morning!"

"Zen… we shall play games at a more convenient time for you, oui?" The temperature arose once more and Fleur chuckled at her discomfort. "I can't 'elp it 'Ermione, you are easy to tease."

"You're insufferable!" she glared at the French woman, half relieved and half disappointed that the Veela wasn't serious. "Aren't there rules against using the thrall like this?"

"Non, there are few regulations against ze Veela. We appear harmless." She smirked. Something in her expression sent unpleasant chills up Hermione's spine.

"And these regulations don't include using your thrall on hapless people?"

"I cannot 'elp it 'Ermione. It is like breathing. I am always using my thrall. And I cannot 'elp being… a bit of a tease. It is my nature."

She wasn't sure just how truthful the woman was, but until she read up on Veela she couldn't dismiss Fleur's comments. Hermione was not one to allow her own biases to cloud her judgment.

"Besides, you like it."

"I do not!"

"Oh but look at ze healthy colour on your cheeks, and I am sure you missed me in class. You enjoy being chased I am sure. All women do."

"That was offensive! I am offended!" she sputtered, irrationally worrying that Fleur could somehow know that she had been worrying over her. "And not _all_ women do! And…. And what do you mean chasing me?"

The part-Veela gave her one enigmatic smile.

"I zink of you as someone who could be my friend… and us Veela, we are very friendly… per'aps uncomfortably so. But it is our culture. We are evolved from predators. We like to chase. I just want to play with a friend non?"

Clearly, she needed to learn more about Veela and their nature, culture and society. Fleur seemed sincere. It wouldn't hurt her to be friends with her. Hermione reminded herself that she wasn't a prude, but she might benefit from more open minded friends. Harry and Ron were… less than exemplary when it came to acknowledging Hermione's sexuality so she wasn't used to someone flirting so openly with her. True, she had seen other girls flirt with one another playfully. Straight girls. Didn't make Hermione gay if she tried to flirt with another girl. Didn't even mean that Fleur was interested.

"Well… I am sure there are ethical boundaries… but I guess I overreacted…" she muttered and trailed off when she realized Fleur was no longer listening. She had cocked her head to the side and stared off in the distance.

"We should be going 'Ermione, I zink I hear someone."

"Oh…" she grabbed the cloak tightly and wrapped it around her shoulders. "Umm did you need help? I mean I figure you've gotten here easily enough. I suppose you know a good charm or something…"

"Hmm I did not use a charm."

"So how did you get here?"

"I walked."

Hermione looked at her confusedly.

"So… you just walked around risking –"

"Yes, yes, I am quite the rebel, certainly ze only student to wander the 'alls so carelessly." She smiled softly as she aimed the wand at herself. Within seconds Hermione was staring at empty space.

"Huh… that's a good spell. Mind showing me how to do it sometime?"

Hermione shivered when she suddenly felt Fleur's fingers trailing along the side of her neck.

"Oui, I will show you sometime…" The fingers danced away. "But don't make it easy for me love; I like it when you run. I will always catch you…"

Hermione shivered when Fleur laughed. For the longest time she didn't move, unsure whether the woman had left or not. She still had to return the books to their place so as not to attract attention. But she couldn't move. She half expected Fleur to be hiding nearby, watching and waiting for her, hunting her just like she promised. A conflicting combination of fear and excitement suddenly hummed through her body, but just as quickly turned to embarrassment.

Being Fleur's friend would be a challenge. They were opposites in many ways. But maybe with time**,** she would see their similarities. Hermione smiled to herself as she put the books away and tossed the invisibility cloak over herself.

*****

She slammed him into the wall hard and fast.

"Who are you?"

The boy squirmed in her grip. She had sensed him in the library, perhaps belatedly, watching her and Hermione. When she cast the spell to vanish, he had immediately sprinted out of the room, trying to make a run for it. For the second time that night she had partially changed. Stalking him was simple enough and once he felt the coast was clear she had him pinned.

"I asked you a question boy."

He stiffened.

"You don't remember me?"

"I am supposed to remember you?" In the faint light in the hallway she could see his face fall.

"Ackley."

She stared at him blankly.

"Ackley?" he emphasized, as if it made a difference to her whether he repeated it fifty times.

"I am not familiar with that name. What do you want?"

"You… we… I… we were on the train together."

"The train? What does zis 'ave to do with you following me to the library?"

If there was any disadvantage in being promiscuous it was the amount of people who felt their encounters were Fleur had some emotional value. While Fleur was certainly a memorable lover, she didn't bother to recall many faces and so she often found herself in awkward situations where she failed to remember some event an ex-sex partner found important. Normally she tried to be polite to them, it was the least she could do. But she was furious that this idiot had tried to follow her around and interrupted her just as she was making headway with the Granger girl. How long had it been going on?

"I'm in Ravenclaw." He blurted out. "I have been this whole time and you never even noticed! And I tried to talk to you! And –" she slapped him hard across the face.

"Keep quiet you fool," she hissed. "Are you trying to get us caught? I don't care what we did on ze train! You will stop following me boy or I will 'ave you stopped myself." Her glare could have cut stone. She turned away from him, quietly muttering her Chameleon spell to herself to blend in with the environment.

Too late she tasted his desperation in the air. The boy was a potential threat. She would have to contact a few people, make sure that if he did turn out to be a lunatic someone else would deal with him.

When she arrived back in her dorm she was thoroughly frustrated. What had she accomplished that night? A tentative step forward with Granger. As much as it irritated her she realized she now had added incentive to go to class. The damn girl was such a bookworm, very education-obsessed. Not that Fleur really believed her story. Hermione Granger did not scare easily and that night her nerves were all over the place.

She flopped down on her bed lazily, frowning when something poked her hip.

_The book. _

Back to its proper size, she tossed it in her desk. She tried to sleep.

_Four fifteen in the morning. _

She was grinding her teeth in agony. Nights were rarely this bad. She would stay up until two and then manage to doze off only to awaken around seven in the morning. A few naps throughout the day and she managed to function. But nights like these… she quickly decided school wasn't worth it. It wasn't as if she could be conscious in class anyway.

She sat up and grabbed the book again. If she was going to be up at an ungodly hour she might as well entertain herself…

The pages were hard and crackled with every movement. She worried they might break apart in her fingers because they were so dry and brittle, but there must have been a spell on them to keep them from falling apart. Oddly, all the spells were in English and not the traditional Latin.

There were many strange spells in the book. And some very sinister looking spells…

_A spell to cause rage? A spell to… a spell to make daydreams a reality? _

Fleur felt a cold settle within her. What kind of book had Reiner given her? The spells were complex and highly powerful. The daydream spell almost seemed innocent but… fantasies were a tricky thing. He said people usually screwed up the spells. They were too difficult. She couldn't even begin to fathom the many ways that spell could go horribly wrong.

She paused at the one he mentioned to her. Over ten pages were dedicated to it in great detail. From what she could gather the spell manipulated dimensions of reality. It was not an illusion; she would be in her room and simultaneously _not _in her room.

_He turned to ash._

"Hmm…" It had been a while since she had last felt so uncertain of herself. Was she qualified to try any of these spells?

She skimmed through the rest of the book before landing on one spell that made her pause.

_To switch bodies. _

It was in potion form, combined with concentration and willpower. Potions were specific and far easier to control and monitor. There were only two pages of instructions and she wasn't sure if that was a good thing.

The potion appeared difficult, mainly because the ingredients were too exotic for her. Half of them she had never even heard of until she looked at that book.

From what she understood she needed to find a target to change bodies with, create the potion and consume it while focusing on the body she wanted to switch with. Done correctly, her own body would fall limp and unconsciousand her essence would switch places with the essence of the other body. She could then play around with that body for twenty four hours without repercussion. Her own body would be out of commission so the other person or animal would never know anything had happened. After twenty four hours, however, it would be increasingly difficult to switch bodies again. All she needed was to refocus on getting back to her body.

She read the paper three times, carefully. Like all the other spells, this one was dangerous and she could see how the government wouldn't want it to fall into the wrong hands. Twenty four hours was a long time to spend in the body of someone else… to do all kinds of terrible things without anyone's notice.

And, if done incorrectly, she could be stuck in the other's body, or the wrong body… or her own body might retain consciousness… essences might not exchange, she might actually switch body parts…

Fleur groaned to herself and put the book away. So many risks, was it worth it? Why was she interested in that stupid spell anyway? Why would she want to switch bodies with anyone?

She sat on her bed, arms around her knees and stared off into the darkness. Soft, steady breathing the only sound in the room, she sat and waited. She didn't know what she was waiting for. What she did know was that it was too cold. The blankets weren't helping.

It was five thirty.

* * *

A/N: Gotta go running to work now! Sorry for the long delay to this post and the short A/N (or maybe you're thankful to be rid of my long ramblings at the end of these chapters lol)

I'll try to respond to every review! Hope you enjoy!

Edit: Check out my forum on my profile (I provide a link) and feel free to participate! I created the forum "Show me Apathy" where you can discuss Walking a Mile if you wish to :)


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